


Funeral Suits

by milksenpie



Category: Jung Jaewon (One), Monsta X (Band), SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Blood and Gore, Drug Abuse, Explicit Language, Gang Violence, Gunplay, M/M, Murder, Smut, mafia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-24
Updated: 2016-10-27
Packaged: 2018-07-17 22:59:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7289461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milksenpie/pseuds/milksenpie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>"I checked under my bed every night</p>
  <p>for monsters but never the mirror; and</p>
  <p>no matter how gently I hold</p>
  <p>onto Jeonghan's delicate hands,</p>
  <p>I'm still scared...</p>
  <p> I still have claws."</p>
</div>
            </blockquote>





	1. prologue - vulnerable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> _Please speak softly, for they will hear us_  
>  _And they will find out why we don't trust them_  
>  _Speak up, dear, cause I cannot hear you_  
>  _I need to know why we don't trust them_
> 
> _Explain to me this conspiracy against me_  
>  _And tell me how I've lost my power_  
>   
>   
> 

“What?” Wonwoo stood in the middle of the poorly lit room, his jaw hanging just a tad open as his eyes remained focused on the lean figure that showed only a man’s back, though Wonwoo was well aware of the scars that masked the man’s face, and the tattoos that hugged around his forearms.

This man was no stranger to Wonwoo; during multiple occasions their groups would clash and there would be dangerous tension between them, but never enough to murder each other. Though Wonwoo’s group was way fewer and undoubtably outgunned by this man’s group, Wonwoo was confident enough to trust how smart his own henchmen were in the battlefield.

Nonetheless, both heads knew that they gravely needed each other despite their internal struggle to go all out and shoot at each other. “What the fuck do you mean?” Wonwoo watches as the man—Jung Jaewon, slowly turned around to face him with that same, sick grin he had always worn.

 

“Are you hearing yourself right now? Are you crazy?” Wonwoo carries on with a bullet of complaints shooting out of his mouth, when he was so abruptly interrupted by a familiar, low chuckle coming out of Jaewon’s mouth. It sounded that of a fiend’s, and there was no better way to describe this man than just that. Wonwoo could not fully grasp what was going on inside Jaewon’s head, but it was practically like that half the time they’ve talked, anyway.

 

“You heard me. I want his son,” Jaewon spat. In this lighting, it only illuminated half of Jaewon’s face—the half that bore the scar that ran from his forehead, cutting all the way down to leave a slice of hairless patch on his eyebrow, barely grazing his right eye until its tip reaches just below his cheekbone. He was a few centimeters away from going blind, but that didn’t prevent him from losing sight of his morals. Jaewon and Wonwoo go way back, having done favors for each other, and has done despicable things together. Theft, arson, drug smuggling, murder. 

 

After all, working in the black market never left your hands untainted. Jaewon was the head of a large group named One that operated in the black market. His real name was mostly unknown to the people he’s worked with, and only a few handful of people know that he goes by Jaewon. All those that are unaware of this was given no choice but to refer to him as One, and ever since, he’s been living with that alias.

 

“Why the fuck would you want that? What did he do to you?” A darker façade gloomed over Jaewon’s face as soon as he heard Wonwoo’s question. He stood completely still as he watched Jaewon toddling over to the display of wooden, carved houses sitting on top of his table. His slender, calloused fingers smoothed along the roof of the small figurine before Jaewon proceeded to responding.

 

“The demolition 6 years ago headed by Governor. Sound familiar?” It took him a moment to recall the event, but he remembered. 6 years ago, their newly elected Governor's first order of business was to demolish a small set of houses that homed people who were living a little under the line that considered them poverty-stricken. The houses they were living in was a project of the previous administration, and the people who occupied them had never been happier.

 

As soon as a new governor was elected, this asshole was indecent enough to eradicate any trace of the previous administration, which included demolishing the houses given to the poor to set up a “power plant that will certainly help the city reduce its use of energy.” You see, this could have been an easily agreeable project if it weren’t for the dozens of family that the Governor left homeless. They were never promised any relocation, which devastated them.

 

On the day of the demolishment, the families affected stood their ground and took a stand, which ended in a tragic accident. Things took a turn for the worse as the families refused to give way to the machines that will wreck their homes, and the authorities had started to resort unjust violence. The commotion left casualties, ranging from severely injured to dead.

 

“What about it?” Wonwoo inquires, thoroughly intrigued. Jaewon looked sinister as he continues to tinker about with the small house figurine in his hand, while his the other reaches into his pocket, bringing out a silver zippo.

 

“My sister… She was one of the casualties on that day. This motherfucker hit my poor 11-year-old sister’s head with his police cudgel. Bashed her skull. Didn’t even make it to the hospital. Fucked up world, huh?”

 

Somewhere along his story, Wonwoo had already picked up the main reason why Jaewon wanted to do this. It was for revenge. “Why not take the governor himself, then?”

 

“Because I want him to grieve and mourn over the death of his son for the rest of his life. He stole someone from me, and it’s time to pay the fucking price,”

 

It was going to be hard, given the circumstances. Given the despicable character that the governor has, he was smart enough to hide the identities of his family members. Every time the media would ask about his family, he would simply say that his son was in America studying, and that his wife was living there as well. Though the governor’s enemies were far too smart to believe all that crap, and has ever since tried to investigate where his son was, and what he looked like.

 

“You do know that nobody knows what his soon looks like, right?”

 

Jaewon flips the zippo open and the flame catches the wooden roof of the figurine, watching it ignite with a sinister grin. Before Wonwoo could interject and complain once more, Jaewon tosses a stack of photos to the table in front of him, and Wonwoo was quick to react by picking it up, scanning each photo carefully.

 

“…You do know what there are two people in these photos, right? Which one?”

 

The photos were obviously taken in secret, some of them even managing to capture the silhouette of the governor with two boys hanging around him as if they were meeting in secret. After skimming through the photos, Wonwoo went against his better judgment and automatically assumed that it was the boy with brown hair and pierced ears, so he was quick to follow his question up with a soft mumble. “Never mind,”

 

“These pictures were taken during this bastard’s “events.” Charities, press releases and other public gatherings that gives this plastic son of a bitch some good pr, you name it, he’s there. More than ten times, these kids have been spotted “participating” in these events, and it’s sketchy as fuck that it’s no coincidence. One of them is his kid,”

 

Wonwoo stood there, perplexed by Jaewon’s words. “One of them? He did mention having a son, right? Isn’t it already given that it’s the kid with the brown hair and pierced ears?” Jaewon smirked at his remark as the figurine has now burnt completely, its ashes falling to the floor.

 

“They’re both boys,”

***

Seungcheol’s laughed echoed all through out the room as Jihoon, again, missed the corner right pocket.

 

“Son of a… That’s three easy shots missed!” Jihoon whined out as he hauled his cue stick up from the pool table after missing another shot. Seungcheol has already doubled over in laughter due to his friend’s misfortune. He was slowly but surely winning, and he can’t wait to get his hand on that stash of money sitting on the table just beside them. Just as Seungcheol was about to take his shot, Wonwoo bursts into the room, the door swinging open as his eyes immediately fell on Seungcheol.

 

“Coups.”

 

He never calls him that. Only when there’s something that needs to be done.

 

“Yeah, yeah. And would it hurt to get a bit of respect in here? Call me hyung, at least. Sheesh,” Obviously, Seungcheol wasn’t in the mood for Wonwoo’s shit, but he looked more serious than usual today, which slightly alarmed him. Seungcheol glared at Jihoon who was greedily eyeing the cash, but Seungcheol made sure to give him a warning before confronting Wonwoo. “Hey, hey—! I’ll come back, keep your hands to yourself, Pinky.”

 

Jihoon snarled as Seungcheol once again joked about his hair color. Fully satisfied as he sees Jihoon raising his hands in the air in defeat, he trudges over to Wonwoo, whom he promptly followed to his pseudo office.

 

Seungcheol lounged comfortably on the chair in front of Wonwoo’s table, carelessly picking on the loose threads of his ripped jeans. “What’s up?”

 

Wonwoo wordlessly drops the stack of pictures in front of Seungcheol, his eyes masked with seriousness—too much for Seungcheol’s liking.

 

“Jaewon. I owe him.”

 

Upon mention of the name, Seungcheol releases a soft groan, his eyes immediately tearing from the stack so he could shoot a glare towards Wonwoo’s way.

 

“Jaew—One? What the fuck, Wonwoo? I thought we already agreed that we’d stay away from that psycho?”

 

“Look, I owe him. This is the last favor I’m doing for him, so calm the fuck down, hyung.”

 

Much to Seungcheol’s distaste, he knew that Wonwoo was right. Although he disliked the thought of Wonwoo meeting with Jaewon once again, he couldn’t do much since it would have been far more dangerous if Wonwoo had ignored Jaewon’s call.

 

“Well, what does he want us to do now? Jeez, can’t he do anything by himself? His hands are already fucking dirty, anyway.” Seungcheol spat and right after, another bout of curses slandered Jaewon’s name. He then began to scan through the photos, which composed of the governor during some of his public expeditions, and photos of two separate kids who were obviously in the same events. Once again, Seungcheol’s face scrunched up in utter distaste, his eyebrows furrowing, his expression obviously seething with anger upon the sight of the governor all over these snapshots.

 

“Well? What are these?”

 

“Hyung. He wants us to kidnap the governor’s son.”

 

Seungcheol’s eye twitched as flashes of big machines destroying his home until there was nothing left but rubble and debris remained. He saw his 18-year-old self-standing amongst the remnants of stone and bricks that was once the foundation of his home. On cue, his hands slowly curled over one of the photos, crumpling it up within his balled fist.

 

“The governor.”

 

Wonwoo nods, then he lets out a shaky exhale.

 

“What the fuck is this, Wonwoo? Are you trying to toy with me? Why are you telling me this? Are you purposely trying to trigger me?”

 

Wonwoo knew about how Seungcheol was one of those people who lost a home—a loved one during that demolition 6 years ago, so he couldn’t fully grasp what was going through Wonwoo’s mind when he decided to bring it up. He’s only talked about it with Wonwoo once, and that was the first and last time since every time any topic would even come close to that event, Seungcheol would just snap.

 

“Hyung, I just thought that you could do it since you sympa—”

 

“Shut up!”

 

Seungcheol was completely enraged now, and Wonwoo was just pressing all the wrong buttons. Before another word could slip past Wonwoo’s lips, Seungcheol was already out the door.

***

The nights were already growing cold, and Seungcheol didn’t like it one bit. His jacket warmly hugged around his toned arms as he braved the busy streets of Seoul. It was a Monday, and the city bustled with cars rushing along the streets, and crowds of people either on their way to work the night shift, or on their way home. Seungcheol easily blended with the crowd after having getting himself slightly drunk after using the money that he had won from his bet with Jihoon. Somewhere along his drunken daze, his feet unconsciously led him to where the governor resided. Once again, for the second time today, countless pictures of that horrible day flash through his mind and his hands were suddenly clenched tight, but mostly the devastating memory of holding his lifeless mother’s body in his own hands as his clothes showered in her blood.

 

“Fucking….Murderer.. My mother…you murdered my mother. You’ll pay for this. You will,”

***

Seungcheol managed to find his way back to their “base” and without any hesitation, he so freely lets himself into Wonwoo’s room.

 

“Hyung, where hav—”

 

“I’ll do it,”

 

Wonwoo didn’t even have to ask whatever it was Seungcheol was referring to, as he trudged forward to his hyung, his nose scrunching up immediately at the stench of alcohol wafting through his nostrils. Was it okay for him to accept this when Seungcheol was half-smashed? Does Seungcheol even know what he’s talking about right now? Nonetheless, he extended his hand towards him, handing Seungcheol one of the pictures from before.

 

Seungcheol’s eyes scanned over the picture where people stood. One of them sported brown hair with his ears pierced, and automatically assumed that it was the governor’s son.

 

“I’ll do it after two days.”

 

“There’s a problem though. We don’t know which one.”

 

Seungcheol then growled, glaring through his half-open lids. He felt like he was about to pass out any moment now. “Look here, you little shit. I know I’m drunk, but I’m smart enough to know which one is the “son” in this picture."

 

His eyes quickly drops back to the picture, but this time to the figure standing behind the boy with brown hair. She sported long, blonde hair, falling just right under her shoulders. Seungcheol found no trace of imperfection on her face—she was almost too mesmerizing to look at. Seungcheol’s train of thought was so abruptly interrupted, his gaze breaking from the picture once Wonwoo’s finger comes into view, its tip directed towards the woman’s face.

 

“This person? It’s a he. He’s a boy, hyung.”

 

….What the fuck? Maybe he was too drunk to argue, or he just thought that Wonwoo was ridiculous, so for the mean time, while his brain was soaked with alcohol, he went along with what he said.

 

“Well, if she’s a he, then how the hell am I going to do this?”

 

“Jaewon wants us to take them both.”

 

Wordlessly, Seungcheol nods, and he folds the picture up, stuffing it into the back pocket of his jeans. With that nod, Wonwoo had already acknowledged that Seungcheol had accepted the job, though he stops him in his tracks with one last question for his hyung just as Seungcheol was about to leave the room to finally get some rest.

 

“…Hey, you don’t have to do this. I can ask Jihoon—”

 

“Shut up, I want to do this.” Seungcheol interjects before Wonwoo could finish.

 

“But…why? Just a few hours ago, you didn’t want to.”

 

Seungcheol then seemingly snaps back into his sober self as he turned back around to face Wonwoo. He bore an expression that was sinister and terrifying that even Wonwoo thought it was terrifying. Wonwoo had never seen Seungcheol look like that—it was almost as horrifying as Jaewon’s. Seungcheol’s lips was curled up to form a smirk as he then dropped something in front of Wonwoo, the crumpled piece of garbage landing in front of his shoe as Seungcheol then muttered.

 

“An eye for an eye,”

 

With that, Seungcheol disappeared out of Wonwoo’s room while the younger boy slowly uncrumpled the mess that his hyung left for him to see.

 

It was the picture of the governor.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N): And, that's a wrap! Hope you enjoy this short prologue for the story!
> 
> Ya'll ready for kidnapper!cheol? :p Anyway, drop by the comment box and tell me your thoughts on this! 
> 
>  
> 
> // Lyrics used was from Conspiracy by Paramore.


	2. 01. monsters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> _I feel these limbs are growing cold to numb_  
>  _Take a good look at what I’ve become_  
>  _There’s a hole in my chest_  
>  _And I don't think it’s leaving room for anyone_
> 
>  
> 
> __  
> 

**[Fr: Jisoo]** are you up?

 

The vibration of Jeonghan's phone set atop the wooden bedside table made the sleeping boy stir in his sleep, though still not fully waking.

The load of work he was experiencing for the past couple of days had started taking toll on his body; the countless, sleepless nights, the going back and forth between rooms and corridors, those were the reasons why his body was refusing to get up despite his mental will telling him to.

 

 **[Fr: Jisoo]** jeonghan, i know you're tired. you need to wake up.

 

Another bout of vibrations, and it was finally time to get up. Jeonghan lifted a hand and rubbed at his dazed, half-open eyes, simultaneously releasing a yawn. He didn't know it would be possible to have every part of the human ache in unison. His feet were sore and full of blisters due to the copious amount of walking he had to do the previous day, while small, purplish bruises littered themselves around his fingers due to the effort that cutting up thick boxes with only a pair of scissors had bore.

 

Apart from all the pain welling within his joints, his back was also sore, as he had stayed hunched almost the whole day yesterday while he was writing up a three-page essay.

 

Although it was not necessarily the first thing that Jeonghan does in the morning, he stretched his hand out, as far as his sore arm could to grab the phone sitting by the table, only to see that Jisoo had left a bunch of messages for him to read. Jeonghan had incessantly told him that there was no need for Jisoo to send him text messages in the morning so he would wake up, but his best friend insisted, especially since Jeonghan really has a hard time waking up in the morning.

 

More often than not, Jeonghan would sleep through his alarms, which of course resulted in disgruntled mornings for Jeonghan, and his hair tied up in a messy ponytail.

 

Once he’s gotten a hold of his mobile phone, he quickly opens the message, but he doesn’t bother reading through it since he had assumed it would be Jisoo asking him if he’s up, or telling him to. It’s always either of the two.

 

 **[To: Jisoo]** im up, im up. don't worry. i’ll see you in a few minutes.

 

It was already 6:30 in the morning, and he only had 30 minutes to prepare for school until he needed to meet Jisoo where the streets of their neighborhoods meet, so that they can ride the bike together to school.

Getting up from his bed, with his disheveled long hair, he only had one wish for today: Hopefully, it won't be as tiring as yesterday.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Little crumbles of crust falls to the floor, coming from the piece of toast that hung from the gentle grip of Jeonghan’s lips on its crisp edge.

 

“Crap, he’s going to kill me,”

 

It was already 7 minutes past the original time that Jeonghan and Jisoo usually met during the mornings—he was not at all bothered about the possibility of being late in school basically because it would only take them a few minutes to. Rather, he was more worried about Jisoo waiting there all by himself.

Jeonghan knew that Jisoo wouldn’t mind waiting at all, it was just that his conscience had always bothered him, especially since he owes Jisoo so much, considering all that he’s done for Jeonghan.

He then began to reminisce about how they met.

 

It was the third day of school in his freshman year in college when a certain doe-eyed boy was introduced as an exchange student from America.

Jeonghan couldn’t be bothered at all, as he was too busy thinking of what kind of ingredients he could afford for tonight’s dinner with the money that he had left in his pocket.

 

“Nice to meet you, everyone! My name is Joshua, but my Korean name is Jisoo. You can call me either of the two! I’m an exchange student from United States! Let’s all get along together,”

 

Of course, the other students couldn’t help but let out secretive giggles and whispers at the new kid’s rusty Korean but of course, Jeonghan couldn't care less. He’s only taken notice when their homeroom teacher motioned for the new kid to take a seat at the only available chair there is inside the room—which happened to be the one right beside Jeonghan.

He wasn’t quite sure why nobody dared to take the seat beside him two days ago when school started, but he didn’t mind it.

“Hey, I’m Jisoo.” The boy simply smiled at him and Jeonghan barely gave him a glance, but in acknowledgement and in a poor attempt to not come off as someone rude, he nodded his head.

 

"Mm,”

 

He was too busy musing over the number he’s scribbled down the piece of paper, crossing out a few ingredients that he knew he wouldn't be needing or weren’t completely necessary for tonight’s dinner.

After a few more traces of lines on the paper, he was satisfied, with around 10,000 won to spare. For the first time today, Jeonghan broke into a small smile.

Though his momentary minute of celebration was cut off when he lifted his head, and very unconsciously, he found himself tilting it to the side where he met the boy’s eyes, which was staring right at him. Jeonghan was quick to react, his hair falling in front of his face as they come untucked from behind his ear.

 

“W-what…?” Jeonghan muttered, his gaze lowering back to the piece of paper that he no longer had any business with. “I’m Jisoo.” This time around, with nothing to distract him, Jeonghan finally introduced himself. “J-jeonghan,”

 

Jisoo could only smile wider, thoroughly amused and interested with the shy boy with long hair who sat all the way in the back row.

 

“So I guess I assumed correctly that you weren’t paying attention to the first—the second time I introduced myself, huh?” Jisoo muttered under his breath, having no intentions of letting Jeonghan hear what he just said.

 

Basically the days that followed after that, Jisoo tried so hard to befriend him, talking to him in between times where the teacher would turn around to write something on the blackboard, and definitely during breaks.

 

Every kind of effort that Jeonghan had exerted in pushing him away deemed futile so in the end, he just hung out with Jisoo.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

“You made it—And your hair. It’s all over the place,”

Jeonghan sported a quick pout at his remark, as he leans to one side, supporting his bicycle with one foot pressed to the floor while letting go of its handles so he could quickly press down on the of of his head, flattening out his hair.

Jisoo stood calmly beside his own bicycle, as he motioned to Jeonghan’s bangs with his fingers.

 

“I should really get a hair cut… But… Yeah, sorry for being late. As usual, right?”

 

Jisoo could only smile at that while watching Jeonghan tinker around with the hair tie wrapped around his hair in a low ponytail. “Yep. Definitely not Jeonghan if he isn’t late. Let’s get going,” With that, the duo mounted their bicycles and heads right for school.

 

Jisoo and Jeonghan were both taking up their last year in college and were also taking up the same course: Literature. Jeonghan loved reading, writing and just literature in general. One of his favorite poets is Sylvia Plath, as he simply adored every word that she wrote despite the heavy background that her life bore.

 

As sadistic as it may sound, Jeonghan found Sylvia Plath’s beautiful writing contrasting with her melancholy life highly amusing and all around likeable. Nonetheless, he aspired to be as great as her, to become a novelist, a poet—an admirable writer.

 

Jisoo has never mentioned any writer that he liked amongst others, though occasionally he would show growing fondness over the works of E. E. Cummings.

 

Most of the time they bonded over reading books, geeking out in the library as well as hanging out around cheap book sales that sold second hand books, hoping to find treasure in another man’s trash.

 

Somehow, despite how rocky their friendship started, they have formed a bond so tight—just tight enough to be able to depend on one another regardless of whether its passing up answers during exams, or just lending an ear for someone who needs to talk their feelings out.

 

Somewhere along the turbulence of their dysfunctional but oddly comforting kind of friendship, Jisoo decides to let Jeonghan in on a secret—probably one of the biggest ones that Jeonghan pledged would tell not one soul. He remembered that day completely.

 

 

* * *

 

 

_“This is Jamie Park reporting live where the Governor has attended the official ribbon cutting…”_

 

Jeonghan stared into the television as Jisoo emerges from the kitchen with the popcorn he promised. The smell of butter filled the room and Jeonghan’s stomach began to grumble.

 

Despite being momentarily by the aroma of the freshly popped kernels, his eyes remains glued to the screen where the reporter was describing the whole grand event of the opening of the new power plant project that he started three years ago.

 

“Wow… It’s finally finished, huh? Well, let’s hope that this will be put into good use.”

 

Jisoo takes a seat beside Jeonghan as he continued with his musings on the happenings on the other side of the screen.

 

“I mean… That tragic event three years ago… Not a very pretty good image for the Governor, huh?”

 

Jeonghan shakes his head as he recalled the event. Jisoo couldn’t quite read what kind of expression Jeonghan had, and it troubled him. His own eyes trail towards the screen of the television, his shoulders slumping upon seeing the familiar man standing in front of a large pink ribbon with a pair of scissors in hand as he was just about to cut the ribbon in commemoration of the power plant’s grand opening.

 

“Yeah, but… Do you think he’s a bad man?”

 

Jisoo inquires, no longer unable to stop himself from asking, as he truly could not grasp Jeonghan’s opinion about it. Jeonghan was leaning just slightly forward and Jisoo stared daggers into the back of his head, staring now at his friend’s long, blonde hair as he awaits a response.

 

Jeonghan was quiet for a moment, probably pondering on Jisoo’s question.

 

“Well, a lot of people did die on that day…”

 

Jisoo felt his heart twitch, his insides twisting, down to every gut in his stomach at the longhaired boy’s answer. He had many great things about the governor, but the bad always outweighed the good.

 

“But…”

 

Just before Jeonghan could reason out his opinion, Jisoo cuts him off halfway.

 

“He’s not a bad man, you know. My father… He’s not a bad man.”

 

“…..”

 

Jeonghan’s whole body tenses up. Slowly, he shifted his attention from the screen to the friend sitting beside him with his eyes wide open.

 

“Yeah… I’m his son,”

 

They spent the night talking about Jisoo’s father, the governor over buttered popcorn and canned colas.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Wow, we have a shitload of homework. Is he having some kind of man menopause or something?”

 

Jeonghan overhears one of his classmates from ENGLIT 1126: Advanced Shakespeare as the class ended after having been stuck inside the classroom talking about general knowledge regarding Shakespeare’s life. It was like he was all the way back to his freshman year and he was once again having his English Literature course.

 

For some odd reason, Jisoo’s schedule got mixed up when he enrolled for this semester, and this was the only class that they didn’t have together.

 

It was almost time for lunch, and as usual, Jeonghan immediately swerved from the route to the cafeteria, knowing pretty darn well how crowded it would be in there. He instead searched for a lone bench around the campus to make up for as his pseudo cafeteria seat, eager to drown himself in a book that Jisoo lent him.

 

Jeonghan didn’t have much money, and he always has a budget for everything. Most of the time, this budget didn’t make way for any kind of leisure spending, which was severely upsetting since the library in their university lacked taste.

 

He had just about borrowed every book that interested him in the library, and he was getting tired of having to reread one of the few, available books in the library written by Haruki Murakami. Thankfully, Jisoo was always kind enough to lend him the books that he has.

 

Being the son of the governor, Jisoo possessed practically whatever it was that he took pleasure in. Whether it be books, expensive cars or the most expensive sets of guitars in the world—ranging from electric to acoustic, by the way, he had them all. Though he does talk about it in minimal, not ever wanting to make it too obvious for people that he was, in fact the governor’s son.

 

He had always kept a low profile, and Jisoo would only contact his father through his phone and occasionally, through some charity events that he participates in. More often than not, Jisoo would drag Jeonghan along with him to every event, creating a façade that these two best friends were just very… “charity driven.” Though of course, despite the main purpose of the governor and Jisoo seeing each other, he honestly loved doing charity work, too.

 

Jeonghan settles himself on the bench, his hair falling over half of his face as he immersed himself into the 67th page of the book. Just as he was about to take a bite of his tuna sandwich, a sudden familiar tone of perfectly combined guitar strums fills his ears, and he simply could not help but smile.

 

Jeonghan never fully understood why Jisoo didn’t pursue music when he was so passionate about it. Jisoo stood in front of him armed with his overused, brown acoustic guitar, its strap hanging loosely over his shoulder.

 

“I see you’ve avoided the cafeteria again today, huh..”

 

Jeonghan scoots up to make some room for his bronze-skinned friend, his eyes never leaving his figure as Jisoo promptly accepts the space beside him.

 

“Well, you know how I hate noisy places,”

 

With a swift glance at the page number on the bottom of the page, he closes the book and places it on his lap, rewrapping his tuna sandwich bag into the plastic wrap, setting it atop the cover of the book.

 

“How do you do that, Yoon Jeonghan? You remember which page you’re reading instead of using a bookmark,”

 

Jisoo laughs as he, too, sets his guitar down beside him, letting its frame lean against his leg.

 

“Let’s just say I have good memory. Have you eaten?”

 

Jisoo then lifts up a small paper bag, shaking it excitedly in front of Jeonghan. Jisoo had always brought extravagant lunches; most of the time it was deluxe cut of meat, complete with side dishes and lettuce wraps.

 

“Today it’s… Wow.. It’s just kimbap,”

 

Jisoo knew how much his friend loved it, despite being such a simple dish. Being the less fortunate of the two, Jeonghan has developed a love for simple dishes and food like kimbap, and even ramen.

 

“…Jisoo. I already ate. And I bring my own lunch everyday. You don’t have to keep doing this.”

 

Jeonghan knew why it was kimbap today. He recalled accidentally telling Jisoo that there was no rice left and that he had forgotten to buy some during the weekend, so he’ll be running on other sources of carbohydrates for the first two days of the week or so.

 

“Oh come on, Jeonghan. I told Tanya to make these because I genuinely was craving for them. Now, she made three whole rolls, and I can’t finish them all, so eat with me.”

 

Of course, there was no way out of this and Jeonghan deemed that arguing with his very eager best friend was completely futile since he knew he was going to lose anyway. With a defeated smile, opposite to Jisoo’s triumphant one, Jeonghan grows swayed and he nods, opening his hand out, palm showing as Jisoo hands him one full roll of kimbap.

 

Jeonghan enjoyed every bite of it and even though he was internally feeling bad for having been happy to have a half-eaten sandwich that he could consume for dinner later when he goes home, Jisoo’s smile was more than enough to lift his guilt.

 

He didn’t like it when Jisoo did all these things for him but nonetheless, he was thankful for having such a friend.

 

“So… The inauguration is on Friday. And my dad wants me to be there,”

 

Jeonghan makes sure to finish what he was chewing on first before he answered. Recently, the governor was re-elected for a second tem after 6 years of service in the local government.

 

Apparently, their townspeople bore no grudge regarding the demolition incident 6 years ago, and now, he has once again won the elections.

 

“And…? So go. There will be a lot of people. They won’t notice.”

 

“I want you to come with me,”

 

Jeonghan blinks at him, surprised. Though he knew he was eventually going to ask him to come to the inauguration, anyway. In response, Jeonghan simply smiled and nodded, wordlessly accepting Jisoo’s invitation.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“The fuck is this? Look, I told you to get Jihoon’s dumb ass out of that mess, not to bring back a new headache. Jesus, Shownu,”

 

Jihoon was mindlessly limping beside Shownu’s tall, built frame, bruises and various cuts decorating the skin on his arms and cheeks as blood drips down to the floor from his fingertips, leaving a trail of red from the door all the way to the couch.

 

Wonwoo was gravely eyeing the small, passed out figure splayed over Shownu’s broad back, as the boy’s seemingly lifeless arms hang loosely around the tall man’s neck.

 

Despite being the biggest man in this group, Shownu’s heart was definitely too soft for some things.

 

“He was trembling half to death when we found him, right before the auction started. He was about to be sold off to those filthy, old bastards. Would you have left him? Besides. He’s injured, and he passed out."

 

“Yes,” Came out as a wordless response, while Wonwoo simply rolled his eyes. From the looks of it, this kid didn’t even look like he was legal yet. Wonwoo was once again left with a new headache.

 

“What the fuck are we supposed to do with him? Once he wakes up, he’s out of here. Got it?”

 

Shownu remained silent, and Wonwoo knew that he wasn’t listening at all. He then shifts his gaze to a battered Jihoon, immediately holding onto his forehead. He looked like a mess, and he expected more from Jihoon.

 

It was a simple job; he had to make sure that their client would win the boy carrying the drugs in his bag during the auction by threatening the other bidders.

 

Basically, they were smuggling drugs through the auction, but for some reason, the plan blew up and now Jihoon is a limping mess, Shownu is in his own world again, and what’s worse is that he brought another headache home.

 

“Shit… Wonwoo, call Min—”

 

“He’s sleeping.”

 

Jihoon rolled his eyes at Wonwoo’s quick response, and motioned to the large wound that took up a lot of skin on his forearm.

 

“Uhh, bleeding to death here. Call him or I die,”

 

“I told you, he’s sleeping. I’ll call for Min—”

 

And as if on cue, Minhyuk bursts out of the room that he and Shownu shared, exclaiming.

 

“Shownu bear~! I—Oh my god, what happened!”

 

That pet name was the last straw for him, and Wonwoo was forced to withdraw to his room, choosing to escape all this commotion for now.

 

Minhyuk was quick to take action, rushing over to Jihoon’s side but not without grabbing the small medical kit from the table, bringing it over to tend to the short man’s wounds.

 

“Minhyuk, make sure you treat him, too,”

 

Shownu then kneels right beside Minhyuk, in front of the empty space beside Jihoon on the couch, dropping the mysterious, teenage stranger down gently on the upholstery. His cut was large; a big stripe of red up his leg, and Minhyuk flashed a face of worry.

 

“How about you, hyung? Are you hurt anywhere? Who is this? What happened to Jihoon? Did you almost die again?”

 

Minhyuk’s questions never seemed to end as he bombarded them with his curiosities nonstop while his hand was skillfully patching up Jihoon’s wound after cleaning it up.

 

Once done, he was quick to raise his hand—the clean one, to place his palm on Shownu’s cheek. The bigger man of the two’s initial reaction was to lean into the familiar warmth that Minhyuk’s hand brought, and he found himself smiling despite the pain he felt in his muscles from having carried both Jihoon and the kid out of the auction house.

 

“Okay, can we save this disgusting crap for later? I don’t know, maybe when you’re not in front of me?”

 

Way to break the moment, Jihoon. Minhyuk gave him a look but he silently agreed anyway, seeing as how there was a lot of work at hand, judging from the size of the cut on the kid’s leg. He was going to need a few stitches.

 

Shownu then disappeared into the shower to clean himself up, but not without whispering something in Minhyuk’s ear, which made the male giggle.

 

“Ugh, you guys are disgusting,”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Seungcheol was loading up his leather duffle bag with the necessary equipment he’ll need for tomorrow’s mission.

 

It’s been a day since Seungcheol accepted to do Jaewon’s dirty job via Wonwoo, and he was determined to get it over with.

 

Just as he was about to reassemble his gun from having cleaned it for tomorrow’s events, Wonwoo creeps into the room, leaning back against the frame of its doorway.

 

“It’s rude to barge into someone else’s room without knocking, you know,”

 

Seungcheol muttered, only meaning half of what he said as he polished the detailed rims of the gun he held, before placing each part back into place.

 

“Hyung. Shownu brought back a headache. Deal with it, please. I might scare the kid.”

 

“And you don’t think I would? You take care of it.”

 

“Buy hyung—”

 

Seungcheol sighs. He was too tired to argue, so he sets the gun aside and he wordlessly stands up to “deal with the problem.”

 

He exits his room, brushing past Wonwoo’s shoulder in purpose but instead of taking offense, Wonwoo smiled, feeling thankful.

 

He then followed his hyung out, but he swerves right towards the direction of his own room with a smile, greeted by a serene figure of a man sleeping soundly. Wonwoo closes the door, smiling.

 

 

* * *

 

 

It had already been four hours since Shownu has brought back the kid, and it was only until now that he had shown any sign of movement. They had moved the injured, unconscious boy to one of the empty rooms, laying him to rest on a tidied bed.

 

Jihoon has gone to his own room, too exhausted to wait for the boy to wake up as he’s had quite a rough day, and went to bed.

 

Being the one who brought him home, Shownu petitioned to wait for him to wake up with Seungcheol. Of course, when Minhyuk learned of this, he stuck to Shownu like a leach and he stayed up as well.

 

The boy flinched, giving signs of finally stirring awake, but not without releasing a groan of pain as a sudden sting rises from his left leg where his cut was freshly stitched.

 

“He’s waking up,” Minhyuk coos as he clung onto Shownu’s humongous arm.

 

All three heads perked up at the guttural noises that the boy made as he eventually opened his eyes, his pupils dilated, having woken up in an unfamiliar place, feeling his whole body sore.

 

“P-Please, help me!”

 

It was the first thing that the boy said as soon as he jolts awake, but the pain in his whole body did not let him get up, and he ended with his fists balled up against the sheets, squirming in no real threat to fall off the bed and escape.

 

“Kid, calm down. You’re fine.”

 

Seungcheol’s tone was in no way comforting or relaxing so Minhyuk, naturally, jabbed his side with his elbow as he then stood up, towering over the bed just enough for him to come into the boy’s view.

 

“Hey, hey, don’t move around too much. Your wound is still fresh and you might re-open it. You’re fine, so calm down, okay?”

 

That was way more effective than Seungcheol, but he seemed unfazed by it.

 

“What’s your name?” The kid then cautiously looks around the foreign room, seeing no other furniture besides the three chairs which his three visitors occupied, and a small table beside him. No windows, either, and the light bulb was seemingly starting to flicker.

 

Or was it only his head? His eyes? Where was he? He took his time with answering, his voice barely audible, and obviously coated with fear.

 

“C-chan…”

 

“Chan? That’s a cool name,”

 

Besides the welcoming aura that the man who stood had around him, the other two who were seated beside him watching him with such blood-curling eyes, they looked like he was about to devour him.

 

“W-where am I?”

 

“You’re safe. So don’t worry, okay? The bad people are gone,”

 

Seungcheol could only roll his eyes at the lie Minhyuk just spurted out. He knew pretty damn well how dirty their hands were—all of them. Though it seemingly worked perfectly fine as the kid begins to relax, his pupils now longer shaking.

 

“No more beating around the bush,” Seungcheol stands up, his voice firm. “Our job with you is done, and you need to go,”

 

Naturally, the kid was sent back to a fearing demeanor, as Seungcheol’s eyes grew dark, exuding pure seriousness. Chan cowers in fear, retreating further to the far end of the bed.

 

“Coups.” Minhyuk muttered, his eyebrows furrowing as he battled with Seungcheol’s firm tone.

 

“We. Can’t. Keep. Him. Shownu hyung, tell him. This is going to piss Wonwoo off, so don’t even try to pull this shit with us, Minhyuk,”

 

Seungcheol’s tongue was getting a little too sharp and forward for Shownu’s liking, and he was quick to scoff. It looked like Seungcheol’s presence was no longer needed there, seeing as how neither of the two men who were supposedly helping him in getting rid of this kid want to even do that in the first place.

 

“Whatever. Explain this mess to this kid, and deal with Wonwoo yourself.”

 

Seungcheol bursts out, as he took his exit from the room. Minhyuk simply sighed and held onto Shownu’s shoulder just as he was about to stand up and follow Seungcheol.

 

“It’s no use. He’s as hardheaded as Wonwoo. Let him be. I got this,”

 

The younger of the two then shifts his gaze back to Chan, his lips curled into a small smile.

 

“So how old are you, Chan?”

 

“I-I’m 17…”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

He flicked the blunt that hung in between his fingers a few times in an attempt to get rid of the burnt remnants of the singed end of his cigarette. Seungcheol’s mouth formed the shape of a small circle as he blew out a thick puff of smoke after taking a long drag.

 

“I thought you quit smoking,”

 

Wonwoo steps up, emerging from the door to the warehouse that they considered their “base.”

 

Seungcheol only shrugged it off. He was already on his third stick anyway.

 

“I already talked to Minhyuk. They’re want to him, hyung. They’re already planning to change his name to Dino. I don’t know how Jihoon will react to all of this, but I guess we’ll know in the morning,”

 

And of course, Wonwoo, once again, goes along with this shit. He’s definitely not the oldest in the group, but we consider him as some sort of leader for a reason. He knew better than this. We didn’t need another mouth to feed or another pair of innocent hands dirtied. This was getting all too tiring.

 

“It was expected, anyway. But you could have said something, you dumbass. If you hadn’t let your puny feelings get in the way of how you run things around here, we could have sent this kid back home, where he belongs. Not here. This isn’t a home, Wonwoo.”

 

This was getting too personal for Seungcheol’s tastes, and he takes another full, long drag form his cigarette, watching the flames engulf the remaining part of the stick until it hit the limit, which, in response, Seungcheol flicks off his hold, releasing to the fully consumed stick to the floor.

 

Wonwoo knew that Seungcheol meant well even though his choice of words weren’t exactly the most pleasing. In response to Seungcheol’s light sudden rush of emotions, Wonwoo simply sighed and decides to let it go for now.

 

“Anyway… Hyung. About tomorrow, we talked about it. Jihoon and the others. We thought about doing it during the inauguration on Friday.”

 

Seungcheol then released the breath he was holding in, and the thick cloud of smoke puffs out along with his sigh as his eyebrow rose.

 

“You know security’s going to be a big bitch on that day, right?”

 

He argued, utterly perplexed. Wouldn’t it be better if they hit the governor when they least expect it?

 

“Well, we have no idea where to find these kids. We’re playing blind darts here, hyung. We don’t know where they live, or where they work or study. In four days, though, it’ll be the inauguration for the shithead’s re-election and I’m 95% sure that they will be there. Or just one of them, you know. The real son?”

 

He piqued Seungcheol’s interest because it did make sense. He didn’t even know were to start looking for them tomorrow, anyway since all he could pick up from the pictures that were taken were the streets that they usually hung around, and the places where these charity events were held. None of them seemed promising.

 

“Fine. During the inauguration, then.”

 

That settled it. Wonwoo and Seungcheol spent the next few moments in silence, and it was only after he heard Minhyuk’s laugh from the warehouse echoing, probably amused with the new kid, that Seungcheol broke the tranquility.

 

“Well, make sure that “Dino” can be trusted,”

 

Seungcheol was getting ready to go back inside. He opened the door to find Minhyuk and Shownu sitting on the floor playing some cards, while Chan spectated the match from the couch.

 

The boy’s body immediately stiffened, freezing in his seat as his head tilted upwards to meet Seungcheol’s eyes just as the man approached him. Chan couldn't read Seungcheol’s face, but it looked void of any emotion, his eyes completely empty.

 

“I—I,” Chan started, but Seungcheol cut him off with a scoff.

 

“Quit stuttering. Go back home. You don’t belong here,”

 

Minhyuk’s sigh was too audible, and Chan trembled. He had never been this terrified in his entire life, besides the previous events that had occurred earlier today.

 

Seungcheol turns around and heads for his room.

 

“This is his home now, Seungcheol,”

 

Before Seungcheol could even respond, he had already slammed the door shut beside him, not wanting to hear any of that home bullshit from Minhyuk.

 

His kind—these people who have dirty hands, people who steal, commit crime and murder… They don’t belong anywhere.

 

“We have no home, Minhyuk,”

 

Seungcheol muttered bitterly as he tossed about under the sheets in an attempt to get some rest.

 

"Monsters don't have homes."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N): skdjlsakda the adding of monsta x to the list of characters was a suden thing, tbh, but omg i hope you like this chapter! i didnt think i'd update this quick, but i was just excited to give you another preview of this messy story. also, yay! chan comes into view as a new character, so i hope you like that bit! i also hope you look forward to the coming of the rest of the members!! ! ! anyway, give me your feedback on this chapter and drop by the comment box! thanks! :)
> 
> // Lyrics used was from Waking up by PVRIS.


	3. 02. with me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>    
>  _The time will come_  
>  _You'll find out who I really am_  
>  _And we'll pretend that we'll be friends_  
>  _Oh, an ideal lie, you only last a little while_  
> 

Minhyuk and the others had made big progress with Dino over the last two days. The child had started to open up more, all thanks to Minhyuk’s motherly words and actions towards him. As much as possible, he would keep the kid away from both Wonwoo and Seungcheol, knowing pretty damn well that they heavily opposed the idea of keeping him around.

 

He wasn’t quite sure why; was it because they had gotten used to their group with just them as the members? Was it because they didn’t trust Dino? Well, who wouldn’t blame them, right? During the few years of camaraderie and sick adventures they’ve been through, they were bound to have made some enemies that wanted to wipe out Wonwoo’s group from the face of the earth

 

Or was it because they didn’t want to bring a kid into this kind of business?

 

Ever since Dino had come around, he had been much livelier for both Minhyuk and Shownu. It was as if they were playing pretend that none of this—their life, their job, was fucked up. It was as if they were playing house, like they had a pretty little home, and that they were living a fairy tale where they fell in love, had kids and lived happily ever after.

 

Seungcheol was disgusted beyond words and chosen not to speak to the child after their last encounter two days ago. Their gazes would often lock, though, which of course sent the frail little boy cowering to his Minhyuk hyung’s side, and the elder of the two would always shoot a glare towards his direction.

 

Jihoon, of course, was completely neutral to the whole kid fiasco. Though unlike Seungcheol who openly displayed his obvious opposition to the situation, Jihoon opted to try and tolerate the kid.

 

Jihoon’s occasional acknowledgement to the kid’s presence would come in the form of small nods as greetings towards him in the morning, or simple requests like grabbing something he needed from the artillery, or whatever it was that he needed.

 

Though Minhyuk showed confused opinions on how Jihoon treated him—practically like a little kid slave, he was more glad than upset that Jihoon was recognizing the kid’s use.

 

And then there’s Wonwoo, who surprisingly, was doing way worse than Seungcheol. He had shot out a few fierce words about Dino, explaining to Minhyuk that he was of no use to them, and that they should quickly send him out.

 

Having talked with Dino more often, Minhyuk knew that the kid had no family to come home to, so he was completely opposed to the idea. Ever since Wonwoo and Minhyuk’s argument, they haven’t talked as much, which of course, worried Shownu.

 

“Minhyuk,” Shownu calls out for the shorter male as he watched him drowning himself on the computer. Minhyuk barely gave him a response, merely shrugging Shownu off.

 

“Minhyuk.”

 

Shownu’s voice was a lot firmer the second time around, and Minhyuk couldn’t be bothered to answer. The two shared a room, and it was pretty awkward to wallow in silence that Shownu wasn’t used to at all.

 

“You should talk to him, you know.”

 

Shownu was referring to Wonwoo, of course. At the mention of the name, Minhyuk finally acknowledged the other man’s presence and his desperate calls for his attention. He knew that his hyung was only worried about him, and that he’s probably right—he should talk to Wonwoo about Dino.

 

“I can’t, hyung… He’s going to get rid of him if we talk. My decision stands still. I want Dino to stay with us.”

 

Over the course of the short time that he had spent with Dino, he had grown greatly attached to the boy. Probably because Dino had given him a taste of the childhood that he had longed for ever since, as he didn’t really…enjoy the days of his youth.

 

“Now just shut up and hug me, because I feel grumpy. I don’t want to talk about this. We can do it later.”

 

Shownu was oh so weak, and he was quick to wrap his long limbs around Minhyuk’s waist from behind. Needless to say, Shownu was still pretty much upset about the tension wafting around the base, but he’s glad that he has Minhyuk to make him smile.

 

“What are you even doing, you’ve been on that computer for at least two hours.”

 

Shownu lifts his head and he lets it perch over the other’s shoulder to glimpse at whatever it was on the screen that had kept Minhyuk so busy.

 

Given their job description, it was a must for them and the rest of the group to keep a low profile, staying away from anything that posed a threat to their existence, or their identities. They weren’t exactly allowed to make Facebook or Twitter accounts and all that social media mumbo jumbo, even going as far as training themselves to function everyday without a phone.

 

The only exception to them using a mobile phone was that if it was a dud, the kinds that you only use once, then throw it right after.

 

Ironically, despite the amount of money that they earn (illegally, of course), they were forced to forego the pleasures and luxuries of life and lived normally.

 

“This…dumb movie I downloaded. It won’t open. I was really excited to watch it with you and Dino, too!”

 

Minhyuk continuously tapped on the left-click button of the mouse, his lips easily jutting into a pout as it popped out the same message every time he clicked onto the sketchy looking file.

 

“Maybe it didn’t download properly?” Shownu knew nothing about technology or the Internet, let alone figure this file out. Minhyuk begins to whine out of pure frustration until a sudden makes Shownu withdraw his arms from Minhyuk’s waist and turn around to find little Dino peeking into their room.

 

“Hyung…?”

 

Dino emerges from the other side of the door after opening it, clad in a black shirt that Jihoon lent him. Everything about him shouted kid, from the doe eyes to the child-esque get up to his adorably short height.

 

“What is it, Dino?”

 

The kid was still obviously trying to get used to the nickname they gave him. Nicknames were a must, after all, especially for the members of the group that usually appeared in public like Shownu, Coups and Woozi. Though Wonwoo occasionally joins them in the activities outside the base, he chose not give himself one, since he was at home more often than not.

 

“Aish, I give up!” Clearly numb to his surroundings and Dino’s presence, Minhyuk cursed out loud, his fist gently slamming against the keyboard of the computer.

 

Dino’s initial reaction was to flinch, having never seen this kind of reaction from his dearest hyung. For a moment, the kid was actually scared that he had bothered Shownu and Minhyuk during their “special times.”

 

He would occasionally catch glimpses of Minhyuk and Shownu’s undying affectionate for each other though they weren’t necessarily hiding it, and he would immediately feel his whole face flushing at the sight—or even just the thought of it.

 

He vaguely remembered having been this flustered since nobody really paid much attention to him during the times when he still attended school. Dino wasn’t the coolest or the most popular kid around, though there were rare times when people would be attracted to him.

 

Despite having witnessed most subtle touches and their hushed whispers, nobody really minded. Like, really minded. Woozi and Wonwoo would occasionally groan or roll their eyes and ask them to stop, but the mostly meant it playfully. Nobody really said anything about what exactly their relationship was; nonetheless, they seemed happy and that’s what mattered the most.

 

“W-what’s wrong, hyung…?” Dino approaches the duo; his eyes round with curiosity as he took careful, small steps towards the huddled bodies hunched over the computer set.

 

Dino had always loved computers, tottering with the Internet and, cracking codes here and there for games that he wanted to play, but never had enough money to buy. Soon enough, he had mastered the language that Information Technology majors spoke.

 

Most of his friends asked him to crack games for their personal use, and they would always give hymns of praise to Dino, telling him that he was such a great friend. Being the naïve person that he was, he acknowledged each compliment and genuinely believed that these people were his friends. That wasn’t the case, of course.

 

The 4th installment of the Uncharted series had released earlier this year and everybody was hyped about getting the game. Of course, Dino had started working on how and where to find cracked games to download, as he was a big fan of the series, too. Though before he could do his homework about it, his supposed “friends” has asked him to crack the game for them and when he told them that he couldn’t yet, they had abandoned him like they weren’t friends at all. Dino fell into a pit of frustration and began shutting himself out from other people more than he already had.

 

Because of this, it was definitely refreshing Dino to find people who looked as if they were genuinely worried about him and his well-being.

 

“Ahh, this stupid movie I downloaded, I waited for it to finish for like five hours and when it finished downloading, some weird pop out keeps on appearing every time I click on the file. I’m so upset, I wanted to watch it so bad with you and Shownu hyung!”

 

Minhyuk’s mindless blabbering and complaining was so abruptly disrupted when the sound of a familiar movie’s opening suddenly bursts through the computer’s speakers.

 

Somewhere along Minhyuk’s endless chatter, Dino had focused his eyes on the screen of the computer where he saw a familiar pop up message—one that he had encountered far too often for him not to be able to recognize.

 

Without a word, he just silently typed in a bunch of weird looking codes after right clicking the file, and suddenly, the movie Minhyuk had been whining all day about was playing.

 

“Oh my God.”

 

Minhyuk’s gaze fell to Shownu’s face, and his expression was the same as his. They felt triumphant. Dino’s going to stay and they both knew it. They found a reason to.

 

* * *

 

Jisoo zips up his bag, feeling fully satisfied with the bunch of clothes he had stuffed inside. He had made sure to pack a variety of clothes that both him and Jeonghan could enjoy trying on for today’s big day.

 

Jeonghan was about a size or just a half smaller than Jisoo, so he was more than happy to lend him some of his clothes, especially the ones specifically used for certain special occasions.

 

He tosses the filled up bag into the backseat of his car and headed straight for Jeonghan’s apartment so that they could get ready for today’s event.

Meanwhile, Jeonghan was still sleeping soundly in his bed, still knocked out as he once again missed the alarms he had set for the day. Jisoo wouldn’t be surprised if he arrived at his best friend’s home only for no one to respond as he rings the doorbell.

 

Jisoo arrives a full three hours before the scheduled inauguration time at exactly 12 noon, hopping that it would be long enough for them to prepare themselves and have lunch before the event.

 

“Jeonghan?” He called out while knocking softly against the hard wood of the entrance door.

 

Jeonghan’s home wasn't as grand and as big as Jisoo’s, and he only possessed the furniture he knew he needed. Once you step inside the his home, it barely had any decorative furniture except for a small, potted plant right beside his doorstep used strictly for tasteless décor.

 

In his living room sat a couch that could fit four people and right across it stood a small, wooden coffee table, a red cloth draped over it with its ends hanging off each edge of the table. Jeonghan didn’t even bother getting a television set, instead buying himself a tall bookshelf that he pushed up against the wall across the couch.

 

He had a small kitchen, too, and it was complete with the necessary pots and pas, an electric stove a coffee maker and a rice cooker.

 

Apart from those, there was one small bathroom and finally, his bedroom.

 

The walls looked dull with the dirty white paint covering the whole apartment, and it the whole place barely had any color in it.

 

Having the apartment decorated would definitely cost money, so that’s probably enough explanation as to why he didn’t even bother. Jeonghan seemed happy and content anyway, and that’s what mattered.

 

After a few more knocks, there was still no response. Jisoo tried calling as well, but it would just carry on ringing until the automated operator spoke through the other line, telling Jisoo that the person he was trying to call was unavailable at the moment.

 

After several attempts of trying to contact him, Jeonghan finally picks up.

 

“Hello…?”

 

His best friend’s voice was still groggy, and a picture of Jeonghan with bed head, his eyes half-open and completely dazed flashed inside his head, enough to make the boy smile.

 

“About damn time.”

 

Jisoo chuckled as he then further tightened his grip over his bag, readying himself to be welcomed into his best friend’s home.

 

“Crap.” Not a moment too soon, Jisoo hears a round of footsteps frantically fussing about inside until it grew closer and closer.

 

“I am so sorry,” Jeonghan apologized the moment the door flew open; and just as Jisoo pictured, his hair was a mess and he was still in his sleeping clothes, his phone still tucked against his ear.

 

The sight made both of them laugh as they realized how dumb they must have looked, speaking into their phones when they were standing directly in front of each other.

 

Though Jeonghan still felt bad about having made Jisoo wait for like, the nth time in the span of their friendship, he still felt light hearted enough to have a good laugh with the boy when Jisoo should really be shouting at him for waking up so late.

 

“It’s alright. Besides, I didn’t wait long.”

 

Jeonghan takes a side step, making room for his best friend to walk in through his narrow door way. Jisoo automatically and very coolly declined all of Jeonghan’s attempts to help him with the bag he was carrying, not even bothering to say anything and simply shook his head.

 

The homeowner closes the door before moving ahead of his visitor, leading him to the couch until Jisoo has made himself comfortable on the seat, before promptly heading towards the kitchen to fetch something to drink for Jisoo and himself.

 

“So… Today’s the big day, huh.”

 

Jeonghan starts as he pulled out a two cans of cola from his fridge, but not before sighing inwardly though making sure Jisoo couldn’t hear.

 

He took a moment to stare at his almost empty fridge. His resources were slowly depleting, and his allowance wasn’t coming for another three days. The only food left inside his fridge were some side dishes like kimchi and a small container of pickled radish, some cheese spread, and the leftovers from his dinner last night, which he purposely didn’t finish so he would have something to eat this morning.

 

“Jeonghan? Did you hear me?”

 

The boy flinched, and before Jisoo could even see what made the longhaired among the two of them freeze and space out, Jeonghan immediately slams the fridge’s door shut.

 

“Huh…? I’m sorry, I spaced for a moment.”

 

Obviously, Jisoo was concerned but Jeonghan looked like he didn’t want to talk about what he was just thinking, and he respected that.

 

As Jeonghan approached him, he had already placed the bag on his lap, bringing out the variety of clothes he had prepared for them to try out.

 

“I said, I called him a while ago and asked him if he was nervous.. Since you know, it’s the big day today.”

 

Jeonghan hummed as he took the available spot beside Jisoo, placing both colas on the table over two coasters.

 

Jeonghan hummed at that, but his eyes were more focused on the set of bright colored array of garments laid out in front of him.

 

He was very fond of clothes, and it was truly the only thing he’d so carelessly spend for. There was this one time when he saw a yellow-pastel colored polo shirt from a branded store, and Jisoo had to convince him around 4 times to get out of the store so that Jeonghan wouldn’t spend his dinner money for it.

 

He ended up choosing the shirt over food anyway, which Jeonghan immediately regretted when his stomach made such monstrous sounds in the middle of the night on that day and though he swore not to do it again, he couldn’t help it.

 

Jeonghan was always a bright person, and his sense of fashion certainly showed it. He barely had any dull or dark colors in his wardrobe; mostly composed of fresh looking pastel shirts and other bright colors.

 

He never liked standing out, but Jisoo thought that Jeonghan most certainly did, and that it was convenient for him because Jeonghan was really shit at directions and always gets lost. Whenever they would get separated while out in crowded places, all Jisoo had to do was ask around if they saw a pretty man with long blond hair wearing insert-pastel-colored shirt around the area. It works every time.

 

Jisoo then reaches for his drink but not without thanking Jeonghan first, taking a sip as he proceeds to motion to the row of clothes he had set out.

 

“Go on, try them on. I brought them for you.”

 

Jeonghan was quick to feel a sudden rush of heat rising up to his cheeks, and was just as quick to lower his head in a poor attempt to hide it from Jisoo.

 

He had this uncanny ability to make Jeonghan flush often which slightly alarmed Jeonghan, especially since he didn’t want to feel that emotion. He thought it was taboo—a complete no-no. They were best friends and if he started feeling that, it would ruin everything.

 

He’s worried and often thinks about it, but he was holding out just fine up to this point without actually confirming that he had feelings for his best friend.

 

“B-but… Why? We’re going to be in the crowd anyway… Not in any VIP section, right? My clothes will fit in just perfectly.”

 

Jeonghan insists, though he felt his heart swell with excitement.

 

“Just shut up and try them on, will ya?”

 

Jeonghan was never good at winning arguments anyway, especially with Jisoo.

 

The longhaired boy’s best friend flashed him a bright grin—the kind that made Jeonghan melt.

 

“Only because you say so.”

 

* * *

 

Seungcheol paces back and forth across the room, his head hung low as he delved into his own thoughts, holding a piece of paper in his hand.

 

He had been studying it for over an hour now though he’s pretty sure he had memorized it thirty minutes ago.

 

It was the layout of the whole event’s setup for today—all the way to where the stage would be and how many chairs would be provided, down to how many people in estimate would attend. Everything was there.

 

Dino had managed to hack into the local police’s files and practically the whole database and they were fortunate enough to get this kind of information. Though of course, Seungcheol had his head all the way up his ass, yet again, and mumbled something completely ungrateful.

 

“We could have done it without this shit anyway.”

 

Ever since Minhyuk’s revelation to the group of his baby’s new found ability of hacking and other computer techy stuff, Wonwoo had been falling more and more to the side of not minding having that little kid around.

 

It was true, though. Among the others, Seungcheol was the most rounded of them all—skilled both intellectually and physically. He’s smart and never the times he fucked a mission up were almost nonexistent. He knew how to get out of sticky situations, though most of the time he acts on a whim, without prior planning.

 

Wonwoo has scolded him one too many times about his tactless and impulsive actions, threatening that it would one day go down to shit and he’d die. Except Seungcheol wasn’t afraid of death.

 

Though he was not at all mediocre in his abilities during battle, whether it’s a fistfight or with a gun, there had been times when he doesn’t get out unwounded, either.

 

More often than not, Seungcheol would kill more than he needed to… Just like a monster.

 

“Hyung. What are you doing? You’re making me dizzy.”

 

Jihoon groans, having watched Seungcheol walk back and forth.

 

“Then quit watching me.”

 

Jihoon naturally blushed a lot, but for some reason, Seungcheol would make him flustered much more often. Everybody noticed this and of course, very ironically, except for Seungcheol.

 

The pink haired boy huffed and withdrew his gaze’s hold on the elder’s body as he mindlessly continued to pace back and forth.

Finally, Seungcheol settles down on the floor in front of the short coffee table and places the piece of paper on top of it, as he reaches into his pocket.

 

“That’s your third stick in like… Thirty minutes. Your lungs must look like shit.”

 

Seungcheol looked at Jihoon, an eyebrow raised as the boy lectured him like he wasn’t used to seeing him with a cigarette in between his lips.

 

“Who cares? We’re all slowly dying anyway.”

 

Seungcheol only shrugged as he lit the end of it up, carefully studying the details on the paper. There was going to be 3 different armored cars around the vicinity, which only made way for only one entry point. They dispatched a total of 40 police officers around the crowd, and some other men guarding the outside part of the area.

 

Seungcheol had already planned everything out in his head—firstly, hang around the area near the entrance and check out each person coming in until they find the target. Second was to leave a black duffel bag somewhere near the event and to alert the officials patrolling around about the possible threat of a bomb scare. Once the commotion and the panic sets in, grabs both targets and knock them out using chloroform, then drag them back to the car with Wonwoo.

 

Simple as that.

 

Seungcheol takes a long drag, and it takes him only sucking the nicotine out of his third cigarette 4 times before completely burning it to its full capacity. He mindlessly flicks it towards the nearby ashtray where the remnants of his previous smokes were.

 

“You ready?”

 

Wonwoo approaches Seungcheol with a black bag filled with the usual cloths they use for gags, blindfolds and the chloroform, and probably some other pain-inducing…stuff.

 

“Always am.”

 

Seungcheol rises from the floor along with the piece of paper but not without crumpling it in his hand, shoving it into his pocket.

 

Wonwoo looks at him, obviously concerned about what lies ahead. The taller of the two reaches into the black duffel bag, bringing out Seungcheol’s piece—the only gun he’s used ever since, and hands it to his hyung.

Just before Seungcheol could grab it, Wonwoo speaks up.

 

“Hyung… Remember. We’re there for the boys. Stick to the plan.”

 

He reminds him, worried that he might do something reckless once again. Having worked with Seungcheol all these years, Wonwoo was all too familiar with how Seungcheol works and moves around when out on a job. He was never really one who sticks to the original plan, always doing reckless and spontaneous things, and though most of the time it worked out for the better results, his luck could only go so far—and Wonwoo knew that.

 

Though their bunch were not openly showing their concern for one another, all of them knew how much they appreciated each other.

 

Whenever someone would come home bruised or hurt from a job, they would fuss over him until they were well enough.

 

“The boys. Right.”

 

Seungcheol’s lips curled into that signature smirk, grabbing the gun from Wonwoo, tucking it inside the waistband of his jeans, right under his shirt.

 

For a moment, he exposed skin full of scars and wounds, and it made Wonwoo flinch.

 

He had only hoped Seungcheol meant it.

 

* * *

 

The streets were covered with streamers and banners while some rowdy, ill-sounding music blasted through the speakers set up around the event area. People were wearing a variety of designs that blatantly showed their support for the re-elected governor as he made his finishing statements after reciting the inauguration rites.

 

Thankfully, these two idiots weren’t too far from the entrance.

 

It had taken Seungcheol around twenty minutes to spot his targets, and as expected, they came together which made everything automatically easier and more convenient for the kidnapper’s bad intentions.

 

While the duo entered the venue, Seungcheol had his eyes fixed on the blonde and although he was standing quite far away from where they stood, he couldn’t help but silently admit to himself that this boy was actually…prettier in person.

 

Seungcheol mindlessly hung around the area, pretending to be a supporter of the governor who came too late and was stuck to watch the ceremony all the way from the back.

 

Everybody was too busy gawking their eyes out as they watched their so-called perfect leader once again take control of the city for another term to even notice Seungcheol’s shady back and forth pacing around the are while waiting for the perfect moment to drop the bag somewhere.

 

From afar, he watched the two conversing, whispering into each other’s ears since the music was too darn loud to hear anything.

 

Seungcheol’s eyes widened just slightly as the two began to part, the longhaired boy starting to trudge away from the brown-haired one.

 

“Fuck.”

 

Seungcheol makes a decision.

 

* * *

 

“Crap. Jisoo, I need to go to the bathroom. Wait up, alright?”

 

“What?”

 

Jisoo shouts over the music, his head lowering further for Jeonghan.

 

“Bathroom. I have to go. Wait for me.”

 

Somehow, Jisoo managed to understand his words above all the noise and simply nodded his head.

 

Thankfully, signs were up everywhere about where the bathrooms were, while some of them contained directions to where you can get free food and other election freebies.

 

Jeonghan promptly follows the signs until he arrives in the bathroom, hurrying inside so he could do his business.

 

“Uh… Miss, this is the men’s bathroom.”

 

Jeonghan signed audibly, choosing to ignore the rude man standing beside him, also about to do his business. It wasn’t anything new to him, especially since Jeonghan looked very feminine, especially with the shoulder-length hair and all.

 

He didn’t even bother responding anymore as Jeonghan pulled his zipper down, proving the stranger’s doubts to be wrong.

 

He relieved himself and was left all alone once the stranger disappeared hurriedly, probably out of embarrassment out of the bathroom. Jeonghan finishes up with washing his hands as the doors suddenly swung open, a man clad in black clothing wearing a mask walking in, heading right for the urinal.

 

Jeonghan spared him only one glance as he began drying his hands with the provided paper napkins.

 

Just then, a sudden chorus of shouting could be heard from outside, making Jeonghan jump in surprise in his spot.

 

“What…” His heart thumped soundly in his chest as panic begins to arise while the screams grow louder. It sounded like chaos outside.

 

Jeonghan was quick to head for the door, when he was so abruptly stopped by a sudden vice grip—an unfamiliar hand wrapping around his wrist that stops him from moving as he gets tugged right back to where he stood.

 

“W-what are you doing!”

 

Jeonghan attempted to struggle out of the man’s hold but it was to no avail—he was far too weak to pry the stranger’s strong grip away.

 

Feeling completely helpless and scared, Jeonghan started screaming for help but naturally, nobody heard him, and nobody came to his rescue.

 

In a matter of seconds, Jeonghan was in a mess of tears as the stranger’s arm came around his waist to hold him in place against his captor’s firm chest, and Jeonghan could smell a mix of nicotine and smoke fuming from this person’s body.

 

“P-please…”

 

The masked man lifts his hand up, where Jeonghan’s eyes meet the handkerchief in the stranger’s palm and he already knew what was happening.

 

Had he done something wrong for him to be taken like this? Was he going to die? Had he wronged someone to the point that they wanted him dead?

 

The soft cloth was then pressed to Jeonghan’s nose and though he intended to hold his breath, he knew he eventually needed to breathe so he just inhaled the formula.

 

Before his eyes could completely close and although his vision was a bit hazy, he caught a glimpse of the man who held him captive in his strong arms and saw a pair of dark, brown eyes through the mirror looking straight back at him.

 

Jeonghan falls completely unconscious as his captor—Seungcheol, held his body up, managing to position the boy’s body on his broad back, effectively carrying him up.

 

* * *

 

“Wonwoo!”

 

Seungcheol hails the familiar vehicle over immediately as he watches it speed up towards them. His hands were firmly tucked under Jeonghan’s legs as he jogged over to meet the vehicle’s open door.

 

The plan had effectively worked, though it didn’t…really play out how they thought it would. The moment Seungcheol found the two slowly separating; he had to make a quick decision on who to grab—it was either the boy with the long hair, or the boy with the brown hair.

 

He naturally went for the one moving away from the crowd, where he could perform his job with the least possible set of eyes watching. Fortunately enough, the boy was dumb enough to wander into the bathroom—an empty bathroom at that.

 

Before Seungcheol had followed the boy, he dropped the bag along the road though making sure that no one saw him did it while their attention was all on the governor as he finally finishes his speech.

 

Like how they originally planned it, the bag started some sort of commotion since the authorities were especially sensitive and vigilant to anything around them thought they were dumb enough not to notice Seungcheol’s presence.

 

Seungcheol had used all this turbulence of people panicking and screaming around as his diversion for his escape with Wonwoo.

 

The car slowly approaches them and the door flies open as Wonwoo shouted for his hyung.

 

“Fuck—Coups, hurry!”

Just before Seungcheol could climb into the car, he released an ear piercing groan as one of the metal barricades gets shoved against his side from the stampede of people trying to flee the area, believing that there under the threat of a bomb setting off any time soon.

 

Its rusting, sharp edge pierced the flesh on Seungcheol’s hip, ripping a hole through his shirt along the way.

 

“Fuck!”

 

Despite his injuries, he manages to dump Jeonghan’s body into the seat before managing to climb into the vehicle himself.

 

Blood gushes out nonstop from the flesh wound, staining the vehicle’s seat covers and most of Seungcheol’s black jeans. Once he’s pushed the door closed, Wonwoo immediately floored it and escaped, camouflaging as one of the lucky people who managed to easily flee the “bomb threat during the governor’s inauguration.”

 

“Other one…Got away. Only… Got him.” Seungcheol speaks in broken sentences before passing out.

 

Despite a sense of panic swelling within Wonwoo’s chest, he forces himself to keep his eyes on the road as he called out for Seungcheol.

 

“Hyung—What the fuck happened? Are you okay? Seungcheol!”

 

No answer.

 

“Choi Seungcheol, fucking answer me!”

 

Silence.

 

* * *

 

“They’re fine. This was supposed to happen, remember? Calm down.”

 

It was all over the front page of every new page on the Internet. It never failed to amuse Minhyuk how fast the media reacts to important events or crises happening all over the city or the world, but today he was not amused at all.

 

They had been doing this job for years, and they had never been this…public before. None of their jobs made it this big in the public scene and to think that now, their plan practically messed up the whole inauguration ceremony, the happening downtown was probably in fifty different channels now.

 

“Oh god, look at this. This is a fucking stampede of people. What if they got smooshed somewhere in this crowd… My medical capabilities could only go so far!”

 

Shownu rolled his eyes and that certainly didn’t help in calming Minhyuk down. So in an attempt to sooth him down, his long, lean arms wrapped around Minhyuk’s waist as he pulled him flush to his chest.

 

“Relax. If that happens, we can entrust all the stitching and more complicated stuff to Min—”

 

Before Shownu could even finish, the door suddenly flies open, and the sight leaves them mortified.

 

Blood was pooling up way too quickly on the area surrounding Wonwoo’s feet.

 

“Oh my God.”

 

Minhyuk’s eyes bulge wide from as he watches Seungcheol’s limp, pale body hanging almost lifelessly over Wonwoo’s stained hands.

 

Barely giving a glance to either Shownu or Minhyuk, Wonwoo rushes past them and heads right for one room, kicking the door open as the sight of a tall, bronze-skinned man with ash gray hair greets him, clad in a white, loose polo, absorbed in a thick book.

 

“M-mingyu…”

 

Wonwoo’s voice cracked and although he wasn’t one who was easy to tear, he was pretty damn close to it.

 

Back in the car when he arrived at the base, the whole back seat was practically soaked with blood he knew belonged to Seungcheol. He didn’t have any time then to run up the stairs and call for someone to bring both unconscious bodies to the base, so he quickly tied the longhaired boy’s hands together and locked left him inside the car so he could carry Seungcheol’s body up.

 

Mingyu was quick to respond as he placed the book down and switched open the overhead medical lamp looming over a single bed with white sheets.

 

“He lost so much blood… Do something, Mingyu… Fuck, I’m so stupid. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

 

Seungcheol’s body didn't even flinch once during the whole time Wonwoo was carrying him. And now, there he was, still bleeding as he lays still unconscious on the bed.

 

“Calm down. I’ll fix it, Wonwoo. I promise. Call Minhyuk.”

 

* * *

 

It took a near 2 hours or so to have Seungcheol completely stitched up and his wound cleaned. The wound was deeper than expected, and Mingyu had to sink in some tetanus shots since the metal, according to Wonwoo, was all rusted when it pierced through Seungcheol’s flesh.

 

Meanwhile, Jihoon was fidgeting all over the place, obviously anxious and worried though he didn’t want to seem like he was as they silently waited for Seungcheol to wake up.

 

“He’s fine, okay? He’s going to need a few more shots for that tetanus, though… But he’s fine.”

 

Simultaneously, the group let out a chorus of sighs, mostly from relief from Mingyu’s reassuring words.

 

They had panicked a bit more this time around even when Seungcheol has gone through much, much worse before, having survived a copious amount of knife slashes and even some gun shot wounds, probably because of the amount of blood and how large the slash was on his hip.

 

It was going to piss Seungcheol off since it’s going to be another scar added to his collection, but everybody got used to it anyway—the scars, the wounds, the blood.

 

“That fucking idiot…” Jihoon muttered as his head hung low.

 

Now that they’re sure that Seungcheol was going to be fine, Wonwoo speaks up about the longhaired boy that laid on the floor, unconscious.

 

“Well… Now we have this problem.”

 

Wonwoo points out, heaving a deep sigh. Everybody, with the exception of Minhyuk who refused to leave Seungcheol until he woke up and Dino who was sleeping soundly in his room, questioned what happened, and what their next step would be.

 

“We couldn’t get the other one. They got separated.”

 

“Well, we can’t keep him here. It’s too dangerous for us.” Jihoon suggests, as the others simultaneously nodded their heads in agreement.

 

If this kid were truly the governor’s son, then he would be sending in his men to search the whole damn city, which of course, threatened their group.

 

“We’ll keep him in the other apartment.” Wonwoo muttered, also agreeing to the suggestion.

 

Jihoon blinks in question, his eyes filled with curiosity. “Alone?”

 

“No,” Wonwoo muttered.

 

“Then with who?”

 

Before Wonwoo could even respond, the door to where Seungcheol was resting flies open and the wounded man emerges, a thick white roll of gauze wrapped around his torso, answering Jihoon’s question.

 

“With me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N): I'm screaming sajkdhakda sI'm really sorry for the very long wait for this chapter, but I hope you guys enjoyed this update! I’ll try to make it a weekly update, or maybe every two weeks. Depends because I’m starting to look for a job. T___T But yeah, here, we introduce Mingyu as the second kind of “medic” in the group along with Minhyuk! He’s the last official member of Wonwoo’s group, sad to say, but don’t worry, there’ll be more different characters in the coming chapters!
> 
> If you have any questions, feel free to drop by in the comments, or you can come hit me up on twitter!
> 
> *coughs* @COUPSEXUAL *coughs*
> 
> // Lyrics used was from Libra by The Narrative.


	4. 03. back home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
>  _The truth is hiding in your eyes  
>  _And it's hanging on your tongue  
>  _Just boiling in my blood  
>  _But you think that I can't see  
>  _What kind of man that you are  
>  _If you're a man at all______
> 
> ________ _ _ _ _   
> 

"Boss, it's him."

 

He knew the call was bound to come anytime soon, probably at the time that was most suited for him since the time zone difference between Mexico and South Korea was quite a lot. Of course, Antonio had no sense of consideration, as he called One at such an ungodly hour.

 

The mafia boss sits comfortably in his chair while amusing himself by watching the red devil fish swimming around mindlessly inside the fish tank seated beside his table. With a single wave of his hand, the man holding a phone walks towards his boss and hands One the mobile.

 

Being a part of one of the largest underground gangs in South Korea required One to speak other languages apart from his native tongue. His vocabulary holds a wide variety of languages, ranging from perfect English, a bit of Spanish, Japanese, Chinese, and other important ones—mostly to be able to communicate and make business with other groups from all over the world.

 

Thankfully, Antonio knew enough English to be able to properly converse with One.

 

"Wow. Fancy receiving a call from you, old friend."

 

One was mocking him. His voice was playful, obviously teasing when he knew that the man speaking from the other line was obviously angry.

 

"I've not time for your shit, One. Where's my fucking payment? Your bill is overdue. Time to pay. And don't call me that, you puta. You're not my amigo."

 

The Mexican drug lord snaps, obviously burning with impatience now.

 

"Don't worry, old friend. I'll meet you there. Personally."

 

Before Antonio could even come up with a response, the line was already cut.

 

One's expression was seething with anger to the point where his eye twitched. He never liked it when people tell him what to do, even if the fault between the parties was on his end.

 

"Call them. We'll be going on vacation for a few months, so put my request on hold. Tell him he dies if he fucks up when I get back."

 

One then sneers, effortlessly crushing the mobile phone with his bare hand. Some of its pointed, plastic particles tear at his skin and causes him to bleed, though, despite the wounds, he seemed more pleased than hurt to watch his own blood oozing out of the cuts.

 

"Yes, boss."

 

His henchman exits the room.

 

* * *

 

"With me."

 

Seungcheol keeps his hold on his own torso for some sort of futile support as he limps out of the room to where the bunch was gathered. He never liked it when the guys held meetings without him. Seungcheol knew (his members, too, honestly) how important he was to the group, and that he always played some vital role in any jobs they were hired for. Personally, the other members think that Seungcheol's ego just couldn't handle being left out of anything.

 

"Are you crazy? Look at you. You can barely walk."

 

Jihoon argues as he watches Seungcheol's injured state walking forward until he reaches the vacant seat, which he had smugly assumed was for him.

 

"He just won't listen… Sorry, guys." Minhyuk sighs, apologizing.

 

Of course, Mingyu, being the one who patched him up was shaking his head, obviously upset with how Seungcheol is behaving. The wound Mingyu had patched up required Seungcheol a few stitches since the metal point ripped at his flesh pretty deeply.

 

However, they all pretty much knew how stubborn Seungcheol was, so arguing was out of the question.

 

Securing himself on the seat with his usual, casual pose: one leg over the other and laid back comfortably on his seat, his eyes scanned the group, watching each one intently. Of course, the position didn't help his injured situation at all, especially since with his legs crossed like that, it pretty much squeezed up his injured hip. He was far too egotistical to change his position, too, so he stayed like that for the rest of remainder of the time they talked.

 

Half naked with only a thick wrap of bandages around his torso, Seungcheol so coolly whips out a box of cigarettes and pulls one out with his teeth.

 

"That's sick, Coups." Shownu made a face once the whole cigarette stick comes into view after Seungcheol drags it out.

 

It was already dry, but that definitely looked like blood. It splattered near the rear of the stick where you light it up, and Seungcheol couldn't help but break into a morbidly sickening grin.

 

Disturbingly, Seungcheol decides to light it up anyway and everybody watched as the embers slowly engulf the rear of the cigarette.

 

Earlier this morning before the whole kidnapping fiasco went down, he had consumed 3 cigarettes. While waiting for the right moment during the inauguration, he had consumed 4. This one was his 8th for today.

 

"Hyung, stop smoking." Wonwoo and Mingyu scolded in perfect unison, and Mingyu couldn't help but break into a thin blush as a faint tint of red graced his cheeks.

 

Wonwoo chooses to stay silent due to his embarrassment but that didn't stop him from smiling.

 

Like Minhyuk and Shownu, they, too, shared a room though having two separate beds inside. However, the others are pretty sure they share one bed, but they can never fully confirm since Wonwoo never forgets to lock the door, and coincidentally, he's almost always the first one to wake up in the morning.

 

They're more low-key than Shownu and Minhyuk; they're a little less touchy and affectionate, most probably because Mingyu was too shy to show such public displays of affection.

 

Seungcheol only stared at the two tall men and he looked like he was about to hurl.

 

"Jeez, get a room." He muttered in his (sort of joking) disgust.

 

Before Wonwoo could even reply with a witty comeback, his phone rings—the only permanent phone the group was allowed to have. One look at the screen and Wonwoo was quick to excuse himself from the group.

 

Wonwoo exits the room, and the group's discussion returns to its original topic.

 

"Again, I'll do it. You're going to die if you go near this kid again."

 

For some odd reason, Jihoon had been persistent with pushing the job onto himself instead of Seungcheol dealing with this mess. He had always been mindful of Seungcheol ever since they started their group; especially since the jobs that they take more often than not leaves Seungcheol in a pool of either his own blood or the enemy's.

 

"Besides, we need you here."

 

It came out as a grumble, but Jihoon's voice was loud enough for the whole room to hear. 

 

Seungcheol was never used to any kind of doting and besides, he already knew this—everybody knew this. He just didn't expect to hear it being voiced out by someone, but he's glad it came from Jihoon.

 

"It doesn't matter…"  Seungcheol starts as he proceeded to blow out a thick puff of smoke after taking a long drag from his cigarette.

 

"He already saw me anyway. I'm already at risk. If you stay with him in my stead, he'll know two faces."

 

"But—" Jihoon was meaning to interject, being just as stubborn as Seungcheol.

 

"Keep it to yourself. I'm not changing my mind." Seungcheol insists as he finally finishes the 8th stick. He skillfully flicked it towards the table as the group watched the burnt up remnants of the cigarette land perfectly on the ashtray.

 

Seungcheol's tone was firm and Jihoon instantly knew that there was no convincing him otherwise.

 

Silence filled the room—though they were unsure why; whether it was because everybody was tensed as of the moment to the point where it became awkward, or if it was because there was simply nothing else to talk about. Seungcheol's words were final. End of story.

 

The door swung open and Wonwoo emerged back into the room, his facial features scrunched up as if he had just experienced something stressful.

 

Thankfully, his entrance broke the awkward silence, and Seungcheol was quick to ride the momentum by speaking up.

 

"Everybody get some rest."

 

Wonwoo stared at his injured hyung, completely puzzled as Seungcheol stood up but not without wincing first-- probably from the slight sting he felt due to his careless movements. The wounded man made his way towards the unconscious, blonde boy lying completely still on the floor with a black piece of cloth tied around his head to shield his eyes.

 

He was still knocked out and Seungcheol was pretty sure that the effects of chloroform didn't last that long. Dropping down to squat beside the boy, he rested his arm on top of his knee as his free hand moves and reaches forward, his calloused fingers pushing away the strands of his soft, blond hair. He was meaning to check if he still sported a pulse, but his eyes immediately fell on Jeonghan's neck.

 

He spaces out for a minute or so.

 

* * *

 

Jihoon tosses about in his bed, unable to sleep. He was used to sleeping both early and late into the night—even up to the extent of staying up all day, but for some reason, he was having trouble with falling asleep today.

 

Something was bothering him, but he couldn't quite put a finger on what it was. Was still worried about Seungcheol? Was he thinking about the blond-haired kid?

 

His hair was a complete mess and his clothes were disheveled from all the moving he went through under his blankets but he decides to get up anyway, clad in a long sweater which went all the way and covered the entirety of his short arms, until only a portion of his fingers were visible.

 

Jihoon heads for his door with the intention to take a short walk outside and get some fresh air until he was sleepy enough to try and go back to bed—he was sure Wonwoo wouldn't mind, since it was a quarter past 1 in the morning, and there's likely to be fewer people roaming around outside now.

 

The familiar stench of burning nicotine wafts past the opening of the door once Jihoon turns the knob; he didn't even have to think twice on guessing who was producing that awful stink.

Jihoon steps out of his room and the first thing that greets his eyes was Seungcheol's bare, broad shoulders. His back was facing Jihoon, but he was quite sure that Seungcheol had already picked up that there was somebody watching him despite Jihoon’s attempts to step out of his room with light footsteps.

 

“What are you still doing up?”

 

Jihoon drags his feet lazily across the wooden flooring until he stood behind Seungcheol’s seated figure. From that proximity, Jihoon could clearly survey the sea of scars that flooded Seungcheol’s shoulders.

 

Most of them were familiar to Jihoon, being physically present every time Seungcheol absorbed each blow, cut or gunshot which eventually turned into the flaws they are now. However, for some sick reason, Seungcheol didn’t mind too much. Well, he did grow a bit frustrated whenever a scar appears but he gets used to it eventually—even up to the point of proudly wearing them to showcase how he’s still alive after all the shit he’s gone through. After all, the duo was almost inseparable, save for the times when jobs required only one person to be done. They work quite well together, being the skilled grifter that Jihoon was; it’s so easy for him to manipulate people to the extent of full certainty and trust which perfectly complements Seungcheol’s conclusive ability to kill with no remorse whatsoever.

 

Jihoon looms over the seated man until his eyes fell on the (still) knocked out figure lounged on the floor, the boy’s clothes crumpled and dirtied as he remained curled up. The boy had long, blonde hair which as of that moment fell to cover more than half of his face.

 

“Trying to make sure pretty boy won’t try to escape?”

 

Jihoon teases as he lifted one hand, giving Seungcheol a soft nudge.

 

Seungcheol exhales a cloak of black smoke through his nostrils; thankfully, Jihoon was used to all the smoke so it no longer chases him away.

 

“Pretty sure he can’t.”

 

A simple answer. Seungcheol wasn’t much of a talker to begin with, anyway, so it was no surprise for Jihoon to receive such a prompt and straightforward reply. It took the pink-haired boy a short moment of dead-air silence before coming up with another statement to follow-up his poor attempt to have a longer conversation with the seated man.

 

“How long has he been unconscious?”   

 

Seungcheol’s eyes were quick to rise to the wall clock hanging above their heads attached to the concrete. Though he showed no visual reaction of his surprise, he was shocked to learn that the boy had been knocked out for a little over three hours or so.

 

“Around three  hours.”

 

Again, another reserved response. Since his efforts were obviously futile in trying to make small talk, Jihoon released a small sigh.

 

“Coups…”

 

“I already said I’d do it, so no use in arguing.”

 

It still amazed Jihoon how he does that, to be honest. Seungcheol knew exactly what Jihoon was about to bring up and went right on ahead with a reply. Well, it must have been pretty obvious. Still, Jihoon was left moderately stunned.

 

Two hours after the group’s discussion, Seungcheol was still pretty firm with his decision even though he was practically bleeding half to death a while ago. Seungcheol knew that he would still be the best option for this job anyway. And like he said, the kid already saw him so it would be just a waste to give Jeonghan another face to be familiar of if he manages to escape and tell the cops. It was too risky for the whole group, especially since they all knew what that entailed.

 

The only other rule (apart from don’t die) that applies to the group is that when somebody gets caught under the law or the government, they have to keep their mouth shut no matter what, even if it meant having to risk their own life.  Of course, taking everything into consideration, the person caught would most probably be executed anyway. Basically, it means that you die if you get caught, and essentially, that means you’d be breaking the primary rule. And that’s no-no.

 

Well, Jihoon at least tried to convince him otherwise for a second time.

 

“Jeez. Honestly, when are you going to stop being such a pain in the ass? You almost died today—and you’re still being stubborn.”

 

Feeling a little bolder than usual, Jihoon continues to argue which only pissed Seungcheol off further. Not that he’d go all Hulk on Jihoon anyway, but he hated it when Jihoon was being inexplicably doting or worried.

 

“It’s not like I haven’t been in worse situations. Shut up and go to bed. This is my job.”

 

By now, Jihoon was at a loss for words. His small fists clenched and he turned on his heel, heading right for the door.

 

“Whatever.”

 

Jihoon flees Seungcheol’s short temper and takes a long walk outside, his mind never once drifting away from Seungcheol.

 

He was just worried.

 

* * *

 

“Hyung.”

 

Seungcheol didn’t bother to get even a wink of sleep the whole night. He chose to stay awake up until just before the dawn breaks, and Wonwoo was surprised to see him in the same seat, in the same position that he had left him last night before getting some shut eye. Wonwoo scans over him before pulling the second effort to grab his attention by tapping his shoulder.

 

“He only moved twice. I don’t think he’s going to wake up anytime soon. Let’s go.”

 

Wonwoo could only roll his eyes. He just got out of bed—hell, he hasn’t even brushed his teeth yet and Seungcheol was already beckoning him to leave for the other apartment—and it was only 3 in the morning. He was right, though. They had to make haste since it would be far too risky for them to travel in broad daylight, so he had no choice but to silently drag his feet across the floor and go back to his room so he could wake Mingyu up.

 

“Hey. Mingyu,” Wonwoo mutters, crouching down beside the bed where he slept peacefully. “Wake up…”

 

Mingyu had a rich bronze tone to his skin, unlike Wonwoo who was quite pale. The elder of the two’s eyes raked over the boy’s sleeping figure and the smile that spread across his lips was just simply automatic. Wonwoo barely smiled—it was purely reserved for stuff mostly Mingyu-related. Wonwoo’s hand rises so he could glide the tip of his fingers along Mingyu’s define jaw, and he was so internally thankful for having been blessed by such a beautiful man.

 

Mingyu tugged on Wonwoo’s heartstrings to no end, disallowing him to ever say no to any of Mingyu’s requests, whether it be petty or hard to do. Seeing Mingyu happy and smiling simply made Wonwoo’s whole being melt. Despite this, though, Mingyu was no brat. Out of everyone in their whole gang, he was the calmest and most “rational” out of all of them. He was great with expressing his concern for every single one of them but in a tough way. Usually, when someone does get hurt and it would require him at least an hour or two to patch them up, he’d continuously nag said injured person about how much of a pain in the ass he was, or that he never wanted to see him again in that state inside his mini clinic. Of course, what he actually meant under all those words was, “Don’t get yourself hurt this bad again ever because it worries me to see you in here.”

 

Wonwoo never disclosed any other details of him and Mingyu’s relationship except for the fact that the group started with just the two of them, and Seungcheol soon followed with Jihoon, and then the rest of the members, Shownu and Minhyuk just fell into place. Mingyu knew Minhyuk from med school, but Minhyuk joined much, much later.  All they ever told Seungcheol and the others was that Wonwoo was a part of some fraternity in college and during some feud with another frat group, Wonwoo got badly hurt and was rushed to the hospital where he met Mingyu. He was advised to stay in the hospital for roughly two weeks or three (he doesn’t remember), and Mingyu was the attending intern for Wonwoo’s doctor. Hence, they meeting and talked until eventually, they got emotionally…involved with each other.

 

While silently marveling over Mingyu’s sharp features, his admiration comes to a momentary halt when the sleeping boy slowly begins to stir until eventually, he’s releasing a soft groan.

 

“Five more minutes…”

 

Wonwoo barely suppresses the chuckle that escapes his lips in his amusement at how utterly childish Mingyu was acting. Nonetheless, exactly that kind of attitude played a big part with how Wonwoo just loved doting on him.

 

“If you don’t get up now, you won’t be able to shower. Coups hyung is already waiting outside for us. You know how impatient that man is.”

 

Mingyu replies with another groan as Wonwoo’s words forces him to get up.

 

“Go shower, yeah? I’ll be outside.”

 

Before Wonwoo exits the room, his lips attach to Mingyu’s forehead in a gentle kiss which ultimately makes his cheeks heat up. Mingyu hums out and watches Wonwoo head out, his smile wide and unfaltering.

 

* * *

 

Surprisingly, after all the commotion and movement, Jeonghan _still_ hasn’t moved. Seungcheol had grabbed and carried him from the floor all the way to the vehicle they were going to use for transportation, and gently dumped him inside, though, he remains unconscious. That was good, though. They wouldn’t have to deal with the whining of a kidnapped boy. When Seungcheol returned to the living room after settling Jeonghan in the backseat, Wonwoo was seated on the couch reviewing some papers.

 

“Where is Mingyu?”

 

“Showering.”

 

“It’s been five—”

 

“Give it a break, hyung. He’ll be finished soon.”

 

Seungcheol releases a huff, tossing a duffle bag on the table as he shoved the pile of clothes sitting right next to it inside. Wonwoo eyes him from the top of the papers, noticing how he’s planning to bring only a pair of pistols with him and a bunch of two magazine clips.

 

“You think that’ll be sufficient?” Wonwoo blurts out.

 

“You think they’ll be able to find us?” The older of the two retorts, his voice completely glazed with smugness. “Actually, the better question is: You think they’ll be able to beat me?”

 

Of course, Wonwoo didn’t even bother to reply to that anymore, knowing pretty darn well that Seungcheol’s ego won’t allow him to lose any argument ever. Just as Wonwoo sets down the papers on the table, a newly showered Mingyu emerges from the room dressed in simple clothing with a black satchel bag slung over his shoulder. He assumed it carried the necessary follow up medicine and some bandages for Seungcheol’s wounds.

 

“I’m ready.” Mingyu announces.

 

Seungcheol heads for the door without another word with his duffle bag, seeming as if he was actually excited for the next coming days of “babysitting.”

 

“Let’s go, Mingyu.”

 

Being left alone for a short moment in the living room, Wonwoo reaches for Mingyu’s hand and he’s once again in a flushed mess—he escorts the taller boy to the door with his hand tightly clasped with Mingyu’s, only releasing his hold when they stepped out to where Seungcheol  could see them.

 

Despite having let go of Mingyu’s hand, he does hold the door open for him until he’s seated properly with the seat belt on. Seungcheol sees the view from the backseat, where an unconscious Jeonghan sat beside him and it makes him cringe.

 

“Uh, can we go now?”

 

Wonwoo barely suppresses the hint of irritation as he rolls his eyes, jogging around the van so he could finally mount the driver’s seat and start the car before finally driving out of the garage.

 

The sun was just about to peek when they left, and the trip to the other apartment was mostly silent.

 

Seungcheol was looking out the window, his leg hooked over the other while he rested his clasped hands on top of his knee when Mingyu finally broke the silence.

 

“He’s been out for almost six hours. You sure he’s still alive, hyung?”

 

Before Seungcheol responds, he kicks the back of Mingyu’s seat then huffs.

 

“If he dies, then we die, too. So shut up.”

 

Immediately, Mingyu’s nose scrunches up and he releases a little whine as soon as he felt the sudden pressure from his seat due to the kick.

 

“Will you ever learn how to not be morbid? Jesus, hyung. Anyway… How long is pretty boy staying?”

 

Ever since Jeonghan came into the picture, nobody really bothered to ask what his name was. He was always referred to as pretty boy, or pretty face. Well, it was sort of understandable anyway since only Wonwoo and Seungcheol were the only ones who saw his personal profile.

 

“As soon as the asshole takes him out of our supervision.”

 

Ever since Wonwoo talked to One to ask this favor, he had not given them any notice on when he’ll be “picking up” the kid. Wonwoo had tried several times to contact the other mafia boss but it was to no avail. The people who answer the phone would constantly tell him that One was unavailable for talking as of the moment.

 

After that, there was complete silence once again. For the remainder of the trip to the apartment, they remained quiet.

 

* * *

 

Seungcheol effortlessly lifts the unconscious boy up from the van while carrying the duffle bag with the other, then swiped in the key to the apartment. It was located in a very old building complex—it could pass off as run down. It was good that nobody really resided in the whole 4-storey building anymore, and it was conveniently placed at the end of the street.

 

Seungcheol slides in easily upon pushing the door open with his foot, even managing to hold it open to allow Mingyu and Wonwoo to follow behind him until all four of them were inside. The apartment was small but complete with everything necessary for a normal person’s everyday life. It had a small kitchen with complete utensils and a single fridge as well as some cupboards for other storage purposes. The small apartment also had a living room with a single couch and a television mounted against the wall—and that was it for entertainment. No music players, no game consoles, nothing. Across the living room were two doors for the two separate bedrooms, and another door on the right wall which leads to the lone bathroom in the whole apartment.

 

Their initial plan was to lock Jeonghan up inside one room and Seungcheol would stay on the couch in the living room in case he tries to escape. All they had to do was to seal the windows off and drape it in dark curtains to make the room escape-proof.

 

“Hyung, make sure you keep these stored inside the medicine cabinet and remember to dress your wound properly. Take two tablets each of—”

 

Before Mingyu could even finish supplying his last minute-advices, Seungcheol was already half-way through the door to the bathroom where the medicine cabinet was to place all the supplies inside.

 

“Hyuuuung.” Mingyu whined with his eyebrows furrowed as he relentlessly tugs on Wonwoo’s sleeve, obviously irked by how rude Seungcheol was being. Mingyu and Seungcheol rarely talked, mostly because Mingyu was always inside the room but every time they did hold a conversation, Seungcheol simply gave him attitude. Though he knew his hyung was always like that anyway, but sometimes he expects a bit more from him.

 

Wonwoo only broke into a thin grin upon hearing Mingyu’s incessant whining, shaking his head as he brought a hand up to caress the younger’s cheek.

 

“Shh. You know how he is.”

 

Seungcheol then emerges from the bathroom, staring at both Wonwoo and Mingyu.

 

“Well? Are you going to stick around until the kid wakes up and sees your face or are you going to jet?”

 

“You’re so rude.” Mingyu hisses, still obviously annoyed as he lifts his hand up and flips Seungcheol off. He then tugs on Wonwoo’s arm and mumbles for them to get going before he says anything else. Again, disturbingly, after being given the finger, Seungcheol smirks as he watches Wonwoo and Mingyu disappearing out of the apartment.

 

* * *

 

“Did you see Jihoon this morning?”

 

Wonwoo’s grip on the steering wheel tightened.

 

“He didn’t look too pleased, didn’t he?”

 

It was a bit obvious, but Jihoon clearly showed some sort of “special” attachment to Seungcheol. They were unsure if he liked Seungcheol or he was just really fussy about him since they’re “best friends” and they’re confident that Jihoon wouldn’t reveal anything about that ever.

 

Wonwoo stayed silent, heaving out a sigh as he recalls the phone call he had earlier. He wasn’t sure if he should reveal this kind of information yet to Seungcheol—or Mingyu, even. For now, he’s going to clear it out in his head first before moving forward.

 

“Wonwoo…?”

 

Mingyu calls out softly, his hand creeping up Wonwoo’s leg and it immediately made the other flinch though still keeping his focus on the road.

 

“Hm?”

 

“Do you think Seungcheol hyung will be fine?”

 

The elder of the two smiles, nodding.

“He will be.”

 

* * *

 

Once the duo moves out of the apartment, Seungcheol was quick to get back to work by starting off with hoisting the unconscious boy over his broad shoulder so he could transfer him from the couch inside the living room to a spread out mattress on the floor inside one of the rooms, carefully laying him down. He secures the knots around his hostage’s wrists and made sure to tie it tightly and complicated enough to make it escape proof before standing up to scan the window. If he was going to lock this kid up, he needed to board up the whole window and buy a decent pair of blinds or curtains to block out at least a bit of sound in case Jeonghan makes any noise (not that Seungcheol’s going to allow it, anyway with that gag ready just standing by in case his hostage was a talker) and of course, the sunlight. He surveyed the dimensions of the windows and got the proper measurements and decides to head out.

 

There was no way in hell that Seungcheol would come out and buy all these other necessities in the morning so he was left with no choice but to look around the neighborhood for scrap wood. Thankfully, there were some other tools like a steel hammer and some nails in the apartment, so that’s one less reason to go to a hardware store.

 

It was only 4 am when they arrived so there was barely any light to cover the alleyway where Seungcheol decided to walk to try and find some wood. Most of the houses and the other buildings near the area were either in really, really bad shape or unoccupied, so he was at least thankful for that. Seungcheol held a single flashlight, clad in a black, tightly-fitted shirt paired with black jeans and yes, a black cap PLUS a mask. If someone had managed to stumble across him, anyone in the right mind would immediately skedaddle from how he looked like—ready to kill, or at least mug someone.

 

He needed to make haste. Moonlight was burning, and even though the kid has been knocked out for God knows how long now, Seungcheol couldn’t eliminate the possibility of Jeonghan waking up and _attempt_ to escape.

 

Seungcheol needed to work faster.

 

* * *

 

“A-ah…”

 

A soft whimper came out of Jeonghan’s lips as the boy finally started to stir awake from being knocked unconscious. He wasn’t sure if his whole body was sore, or if he couldn’t feel his whole body. He thinks it’s the latter. He knew that he tried to move his hand, but it wouldn’t move—he doesn’t feel it move. Were his arms cut off? Did he even still have arms?

 

Jeonghan released a pain cry as panic starts to wash over him. His face was heated up, particularly the area around his eyes—he had them open but there was no light, he couldn’t see anything at all. He also heard no sound except for the continuous pounding of his heart inside his chest as his eyes begin to well up.

 

Where was he? Was he hurt anywhere? Why was he blindfolded?

 

Jeonghan was still completely disgruntled, but he willed himself to at least try to recall what happened to him that left him in this kind of situation, though his headache didn’t help.

 

Though he couldn’t see anything because of the blindfold, he still chose to close his eyes, trying to hold back the tears. His whole body trembled with fear as he gave a first attempt on calling out for help.

 

But no word came out.

 

He felt far too weak and disoriented and just scared to even produce a sound. In his head, he called out for Jisoo over and over again, but instead of feeling Jisoo’s warm hands on his—to hold him until everything was better, he felt a sudden sting of pain constricting around his wrists as if they were bounded. In an attempt to soothe the pain, he tries to move his hands and to his horror, he was indeed tied up. He continued to struggle against the ropes but it only made his wrists hurt further, and for him to sob louder. He had now become a whimpering mess, the cloth of the blindfold already soaked with his tears.

 

After a couple of more attempts in freeing his hands, he grows even weaker and decided to simply lay there, completely blind, immobile and horrified. Various images flash through his head—the kind of thoughts that one would have when they know you’re about to die.

 

He felt apologetic that his friends would come looking for him upon suddenly disappearing and worry them to death. He felt apologetic that he didn’t get to graduate college. He felt apologetic that he couldn’t thank Jisoo.

 

“Jisoo…”

 

He never got the chance to even say goodbye. Or tell him how he felt.

 

Jeonghan curled up into a small ball in his corner and sobbed uncontrollably.

When he turned to lie on his back, he felt a sudden sharp edge poke at his rear and his heart began to race upon remembering the ball pen that Jisoo had lent him just a day before.

 

It was worth a shot.

 

Jeonghan wasn’t the most flexible student in Physical Ed. Class, but thankfully, the occasional stretching he does in the morning made his body elastic enough to be able to bend his shoulders back so his bound wrists could reach behind his pockets and dig his hand in, feeling its contents until he finally grabs a hold of the pen.

 

Jeonghan pops the cap off and poked around the knots to find an opening where he could continuously dig the ballpoint in until it grows loose. He needed to make haste, he had no idea when his captor will come busting in again, but he didn’t plan on sticking around until then.

 

His movements were sloppy and all over the place since he was working with urgency and at one point, he allowed the pen to slip from his hold, causing him to stumble around and blindly look for it. He couldn’t lose his only aid in escaping.

 

After a few mindless fiddling with the ropes, Jeonghan manages to somehow slightly loosen the bind, giving him a ray of hope. If he could just push the pen deeper and dig in a bit further, he’d be able to free himself soon by moving his wrists together.

 

“Oh god, Oh god, Oh god—”

 

He heaves out a quick sigh and felt the ropes untangling themselves slowly from his wrists.

 

“Oh my god.”

 

* * *

 

It took Seungcheol at least an hour and a half to find the things he needed so he can start with his “renovation.” The sun was about to rise, too, so he came back just in time, only to be greeted by the door hanging ajar.

 

“Shit.”

 

Seungcheol was very keen to details and he was positive that he closed AND locked the door before leaving. He was quick to drop everything to the floor once he’s inside the apartment, checking the room immediately only to see it unoccupied.

 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck--!”

 

He curses out upon being greeted by the sight of the rope he used to tie Jeonghan up and a ball pen right beside it. In his frustration, he punches the concrete wall, just hard enough to leave a small dent and to make his knuckles bleed before bolting out—he couldn’t have gone too far.

 

* * *

 

_“Faster.”_

 

He mentally scolded himself for being so slow. For being so weak. Jeonghan had no idea if his captor was already hunting him down, but he knew he had to run faster. His wrists were bleeding and he was still completely disoriented from the chemical they had used on him. His sight was also blurry since they were still adjusting to light after having been denied of it for at least an hour. It also didn’t help that he was completely unfamiliar with the place—he had no idea where he was going, he just knew that he had to get away. Sunlight was about to break through the darkness of the night, signaling a new day.

 

He turned on every corner he came across in a hopeful attempt to lose his hunter. Jeonghan would occasionally look over his shoulder to check when suddenly, he bumps into something.

 

Or someone.

 

“Woah there princess, what’s the rush?”

 

Gruff, unfamiliar and horrifying. A large shadow casted over Jeonghan’s frail body as he stumbled to the floor after having bumped into the person in front of him. He had never felt so glad to finally see another human being.

 

 

* * *

**WARNING: ATTEMPTED RAPE SCENE COMING UP PLEASE SKIP THIS PART  IF YOU FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE**

* * *

 

“P-Please, help me… I’m being chased…”

 

Jeonghan lifts his head and waits for his eyes to focus on the standing figure in front of him, only to find out that he was graced by the company of three, shady looking men.

 

“Oh yeah? Let us help you then. We’ll get you to a safe place.”

 

Their eyes held nothing but maliciousness. Jeonghan at least had a good judge of character and he knew immediately that he had to once again run away. His eyes scanned around for an exit he could use, but there were only two ways out—either he goes back to where he came from, or he runs past these hooligans.

 

The one standing in front—whom he assumed he had bumped into wore a tight black shirt which hugged his disturbingly toned body. The other two in the back were not as toned, but Jeonghan was still pretty sure that he could never take any of them, let alone all three of them.

 

“Come on, princess. I’ll take care of you.”

 

Jeonghan watches as the man rakes over his body like he was some piece of meat—like he was something to devour.

 

“P-Please… No…”

 

“What do you mean no? You don’t need our help?”

 

The men laugh and wore sick, disturbing smugs on their faces as the biggest of the three slowly approached the fallen boy on the ground, kneeling down so he could clearly check on Jeonghan’s face. Upon getting a clear view, Jeonghan felt a tickling sensation running up his leg, all the way to his inner thigh and it made him flinch, scared to think of what these three men had planned out for him.

 

Jeonghan was now repeatedly whimpering and yearning for Jisoo, hoping that he would arrive soon to save him. But once he opens his eyes, what he saw just added to his horror as he learns that the man had been using the tip of a knife to trail the length of his leg.

 

“P-Please!”

 

As Jeonghan begins to struggle, the three men start to crowd over him, blocking the dawning sunlight from Jeonghan’s vision. He couldn’t even yell, he was far too weak and he just lost it. It was the end.

 

The feeling of unfamiliar, calloused fingers skimming through his skin made Jeonghan tear up as he so desperately tries to call out for help. His shirt begins to ride up and the cool air hits his stomach, sending shivers up his spine.

 

“Such a pretty boy you are… If you stay still, we promise we’ll help you, yeah?”

 

Jeonghan attempts to stop them as his body thrashes about in a pursuit to stall the men’s impending acts, but the other two has already held his wrists down against the floor. Being unable to use his hands, he moved his leg up and weakly kicked at the largest man’s stomach to try and push him off. The man stumbles back but not completely, and his expression was quick to change into that of someone enraged.

 

Everything happened so quickly, he barely had any time to react. Before he knew it, the man’s palm met with his cheek in a hard smack before quickly grabbing onto his hair to pull it back and forcibly lift Jeonghan’s head.

 

“Listen here, you little bitch. Stay still or you’ll regret it,”

 

The sting started to settled and Jeonghan began crying out in pain and the only response he got from all his sobs was disgusting swipe of the man’s tongue up along the side of his face.

 

One by one, Jeonghan’s clothes were slowly disappearing from his body until he was only left with his jeans.

 

“S-Stop… Please, no… Jisoo… Help me--!”

 

With every continuous whimper, the men finally grow tired so they seal off his mouth by covering it with his hand.

 

Jeonghan fell numb physically and mentally as the three strangers took advantage of his vulnerable body; touching him in places that he had saved for someone else—for someone special in the future.

 

His zipper was halfway undone when he heard an abrupt thump, and the weight holding his body down was suddenly gone. Before he knew it, the gigantic man was on his ass on the floor, his lip bleeding.

 

* * *

**END OF EXPLICIT SCENE**

* * *

 

He couldn’t quite make out what was happening since he was still completely dazed and before he could coherently piece the scene unfolding in front of him, his eyes had forced themselves shut, dragging him to pass out.

 

The last thing he saw before submitting to unconsciousness was the figure of a fit, tall man with black disheveled hair straddling his assailant on the stomach as the stranger continuously gives blow after blow to his face.

 

Unbeknownst to Seungcheol as Jeonghan blacked out, he carried on with punching the man who had jumped the long-haired boy. If he had arrived later than he did, Jeonghan would have ended up laying in this alley half-dead. Seungcheol kept on hitting him, over and over even when the man seemed to have already fallen unconscious—or dead.

 

Nonetheless, it didn’t matter much, since it was always like this for him. Whenever he was in a situation where he had to kill anyone, his whole body and mind just went into some kind of frenzy which ends up with his targets being brutally murdered.

 

Seungcheol was laughing to himself in a wickedly disturbing way as the man’s blood splattered all over his knuckles and his shirt—his facial features were severely distorted, up to the point where he was… barely recognizable.

 

The other two men had long ran off and if it weren’t for Jeonghan letting out a tiny whimper even in his unconscious state, Seungcheol would have kept on hitting him until all the blood had flown out of his head.

 

“Fuck. This was my favorite shirt, too.”

 

Seungcheol got off the man’s lifeless body and walked towards the unconscious boy across the alley.

 

“Still breathing.”

 

He muttered to himself as he carefully took off his bloodied jacket and wrapped it around Jeonghan’s naked torso. Deep, red marks littered all around Jeonghan’s tiny wrists, while some small cuts and bruises were scattered all over his torso. Jeonghan’s shirt was tattered from all the struggling he did, and his jeans’ zipper was just an inch away from being completely pulled down.

 

Seungcheol releases a sigh; his eyebrows deeply knitted over his forehead as he carelessly lifted Jeonghan’s body up and carried him in his arms. The unconscious boy’s legs hang off of Seungcheol’s arm, and his head dangled off the other. Amidst everything that Jeonghan had experienced that morning, the men who attacked him managed to free his long hair from the black hair tie that held it up in a ponytail, and Seungcheol couldn’t help but once again stare at Jeonghan’s exposed neck.

 

“Fucking pain in the ass you are.”

 

Brushing his thoughts away, he started making his way back home with heavy steps. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> **(A/N): I'M SO SORRY I KNOW I DESERVE TO BE PADDLED FOR UPDATING LIKE after three months of nothing im crying but here, not much happened but i threw in some meanie bc why tf not :')**
> 
> **If you have any questions, feel free to drop by in the comments, or you can come hit me up on twitter! Coughs. Leaves this here!!!**
> 
> [@COUPSEXUAL](http://www.twitter.com/coupsexual)
> 
>  
> 
> I ALSO HAVE A CURIOUS CAT ACCOUNT [(COUPSEXUAL)](http://www.curiouscat.me/coupsexual) SO YEAH if you wanna say/confess anything anonymously or just criticize my work you can drop by my account there, too!! PLUS. I'M PLANNING TO MAKE A ONE SHOT BUT I'M NOT SURE YET ON THE CHARACTERS I WANT TO USE PLS LET ME KNOW WHO YOU WANT TO SEE IN A FLUFFY ONE SHOT u can submit which one in my curious cat account or just @ me on twitter or drop by in the comments section below tbh THANKS
> 
> MEANIE (Mingyu/Wonwoo) or VERNKWAN (Vernon/Seungkwan) 
> 
>  
> 
> // Lyrics used was from Decode by Paramore.


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